Switch
by tinuelena
Summary: Draco and Harry switch bodies due to a strange charm. Draco's wife discovers she's attracted to Harry, and after they switch back, a threesome ensues. But after they change back, what happens when the two men meet for a rendezvous of their own? Slash HD
1. Chapter 1

Switch

With credit to my good friends (& alphas) Sobiya, Maimoona, Gaby, and Lexi.

A/N: Random one-shot. Sort of AU-- Hermione dated Draco briefly in fifth year. Daphne Greengrass is Draco's mystery wife-- she's a friend of Hermione's, so Harry and Draco are on familiar terms. Since JKR never gave Draco an occupation, I'd like to fancy that he writes romance novels or sex position manuals for couples. lol.

xx

Over at the Malfoy household sat four very irritated and confused individuals. Daphne was on the couch with Draco, and Hermione and Harry occupied the loveseat; but to anyone walking in the house, they would have thought Daphne was trying to calm Harry down and Hermione was in the middle of comforting Draco.

"It's going to be fine," Daphne said soothingly to her husband, who was touching his messy black hair in disgust.

"No it's bloody not, look at me, I'm a speccy git who--"

"Hey!" Harry protested in Draco's voice, though it was much more abbreviated and higher in pitch than normal. "Look at me, I've got--"

"--perfect hair," Draco drawled. "I know. You're gorgeous."

Hermione stifled a laugh. Harry glared at her.

"You're not getting the glare right, Potter," Draco told him. "It's more like--" He glared at Daphne, just a little twinkle of mischief in his eye, and Daphne felt her heart nearly stop. Harry had never once looked at her like that, and even though she knew it was Draco, it was hard not to let her imagination run away with itself...

"So," she said, trying to clear the thoughts from her head, "Polyjuice Potion, you think?"

"But obviously some other form of it," Draco said. "We've looked like this for three hours now."

"Who the bloody hell would be playing this trick on us?" Harry wondered. He brought a hand up to scratch his head and indignantly realized that he did have perfect hair. He quickly replaced it in his lap.

"Fred and George?" Daphne said automatically.

"Nah, they wouldn't mess with us this terribly," Harry replied.

"Maybe it's not just a strengthened Polyjuice," Daphne mused. "I mean-- your voices changed too. It's different than just appearance."

"You know," Hermione said ponderingly, "Harry, I wondered if you inherited Draco's-- you know-- skills--"

Draco began to laugh hysterically.

"Please, this isn't helping," Harry said as he buried his face in his hands. "Can we just not talk until your Healer friends get here?"

"Don't worry, love, we'll figure something out," Hermione said soothingly as she rubbed Harry's back. Daphne, on the other hand, had a hard time calming Draco's laughter.

"Quick thought," Draco said, between chuckles. "D'you know how weird this is? I mean... what with the history between Hermione and I-- and between the four of us--"

Hermione laughed. "Oh, dear Lord, I was hoping no one would bring that up."

Draco looked stung. "Are you saying I wasn't good enough for you?"

"Not in the least," Hermione said, a little too fast. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I mean," she said quickly, "thank God I ended up with you..." She whispered something into his ear which made him look quite content.

"It's weird though," Daphne ventured. "If they can't take this spell off by the end of the night I'll feel like I'm going to sleep with Harry."

"There is no way you're going to bed with that maroon-and-gold--"

"Draco," Daphne said exasperatedly, "it'll still be YOU. You just look like him."

He folded his arms. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh, good Lord."

There was a knock at the door then, and Daphne rose to answer it. She found Asra and Karyn on the doorstep. They stepped over the threshold and came into the livingroom.

Asra greeted them. "Hermione. Harry, Draco."

"I'm Draco," said Draco, his green eyes showing aggravation.

"I'm Harry." Harry's ice-blue eyes flickered over to Karyn, as if to say "help me."

"You're not trying to sound like each other?" Karyn sounded concerned.

"No," Draco said sullenly. "I've lost that part of my seductive prowess..."

Asra hid a chuckle.

"Then it's not Polyjuice," Karyn said gravely.

"That's what we were afraid of." Draco sighed. "Any ideas?"

She opened up her bag and withdrew a pair of scissors. She snipped off a piece of blonde hair.

"Hey!" Draco protested. "That's my hair you're destroying there!"

Daphne patted his arm as Karyn took a lock of messy black hair.

"C'mon," Asra said. "Let's get to my lab."

"When will you be back?" Harry demanded.

Asra shrugged. "Probably tomorrow morning."

Harry and Draco glared across at each other, glanced back at their wives, then glared at each other again.

Rather grumpy, Draco laid his head in Daphne's lap.

"Harry, you really need to do something about your hair." Daphne commented as she ran her fingers through Draco's new hair. "It's all tangly."

"It's always been that way." Hermione said, a blissful look on her face as she ran her own fingers through Harry's new hair. "Not smooth and glossy like this."

"You don't have to be so happy about it." Harry glared at her.

"So, what are we going to do until tomorrow morning?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"Sleep." Harry yawned. "It's what most people do in the night hours."

"I want my body where I can see it," Draco declared.

"This is not your body," said Harry, waving a hand over himself. "It's mine. It just looks like yours."

"Whatever." Draco ignored him. "I just don't want you scarring my flawless skin."

Harry sighed and shook his head. Daphne stared down at Draco and before she could stop, her fingers were running through his messy black locks. Harry smirked at Draco.

"Well, we won't get this fixed until tomorrow morning," said Hermione. "So why don't we all go to bed?"

"No," said Draco and Harry. They glared at each other.

"Ugh. Fine. Be stupid! Hermione, you can sleep in the guest room." Daphne got to her feet and looked down at the sulking Draco. "I'm going to bed."

"Me too," Hermione said. "Goodnight, Harry." They left their husbands engaged in a glaring contest.

When it was just the two of them, Harry suddenly felt awkward. It was unnerving to see himself glare back with utmost loathing etched on his face.

"This is not helping. They're right. We should get sleep," said Harry, standing up.

"Oh you can't wait, can you, for Granger to jump you in my body?" said Draco, his tone between a gloat and a sneer.

"Shut it, Malfoy!" snapped Harry.

"Ah well, I can't hog all the fun, now, can I? Go ahead. Have fun, Potter," Draco called, as he left Harry fuming in the livingroom.

When Draco made his way to the bedroom, Daphne was already in bed, reading. He went to the bathroom to take a shower. As he was about to disrobe, his gaze fell on the mirror over the sink, and he froze. Emerald green eyes blinked back at him. He turned away quickly and was met by a full sized mirror, again showing himself taking clothes off of Harry.

Draco growled in frustration. "Why do we have so many bloody mirrors in here?"

He stalked out of the bathroom, still fully dressed, and stood in front of Daphne, who put her book down and looked at him questioningly.

"I can't do it. I can't watch him naked," said Draco, looking troubled.

Daphne did her best to fight off the grin threatening to break out on her face.

"So close your eyes," she said helpfully.

Draco did so, and she began to take off his clothes. A tiny little gasp escaped her mouth when she got to the final piece of fabric, and Draco's eyes flew open indignantly.

"You _like_ it!" he exclaimed.

Daphne went red. "I--"

"You do."

"Maybe just a little."

He shuddered. "I can't believe--" He looked at the floor to pick his shirt back up, and wrinkled his nose. "Oh, bloody hell, I don't want to look! Just put my clothes on for me!"

Sighing, Daphne obliged.

Draco's mind was plagued. Something inside his stomach was nagging at him, a familiar feeling that he couldn't shake. "I'm going downstairs. I can't sleep."

She placed a bookmark in her novel and followed him down. They met Harry and Hermione, who were sitting across from each other in the livingroom, wearing twin expressions of irritation.

"So obviously we can't sleep," Daphne said, sinking into the couch. "What should we do?"

"Let's start by doing this," said Harry with an malicious grin on his face. He sat up and plunged his hands into his hair, ratting the strands, tangling them, making his hair into a veritable bird's nest.

Draco glared at him with his own green eyes. "I hate you," he pouted, and Daphne gathered him into her arms.

Satisfied, Harry leaned back against Hermione. "It's so weird seeing me laying in your lap," he said to Daphne.

She couldn't help herself. "Do you like it?"

Three things happened simultaneously-- Draco held his breath, Harry blushed bright red, and Hermione leaned forward to hear what Harry had to say.

"That doesn't need to be answered," said Draco, quickly, looking up at Daphne. "Does it?"

"It's new," Harry replied quietly. Daphne smiled sweetly at him. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" said Hermione, turning to fully face Harry. "I didn't know your eyes were a little blue." Her face was inches away from Harry's staring into Draco's eyes.

"Yeah, they are," said Daphne.

"Huh," said Hermione, looking curious. "I never noticed before."

Harry looked away, annoyed by Hermione's sudden interest in Draco's eye color.

Daphne looked down at Draco, her eyes blazing. "I've always wanted to... do this. Don't freak out, okay?"

Draco looked alarmed but nodded.

She brushed the jet black hair away from the forehead, revealing the lightning-shaped scar. She touched a forefinger to Draco's forehead and traced Harry's scar. Draco closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His forehead tingled where Daphne stroked it.

"Unbelievable," laughed the real Harry. "The girl who has the Slytherin Sex God in her bed every night wants to try me?" He sounded cocky.

"I always remembered them gray," Hermione continued. "They used to be icy gray, like unforgiving winter. Maybe-- something's melted in you."

Draco turned to Hermione. "It has," he told her. "It happened the second I got to know Daphne."

But the words were coming from different lips, in Harry's voice.

And Hermione was drifting into delusion. "Do you remember that time in fifth year-- just a short while after the Valentine's ball--"

"Hermione," Harry said to her, "I'm Harry. Not Draco."

"It tingles," Draco voiced, as Daphne let her fingers draw the lightning-bolt shape again and again, back and forth.

For a moment, Draco wildly wished he was in his own body, on the couch with Hermione. And Harry, after all the pain he felt in that scar, wanted to feel the sensation that Daphne's delicate fingers were causing in it now.

Very gently, Daphne continued to trace the scar. Draco closed his green eyes and gave in to the sensation.

Hermione stared into those icy blue-gray eyes and plunged her fingers into Harry's blonde hair. Harry, too, closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Hermione playing with his locks.

Suddenly, both Draco and Harry realized what their wives were doing.

"Hermione!" Harry jumped up from her lap.

"Enough touching the scar," Draco said. half-heartedly moving Daphne's hand.

"What?" chorused the girls innocently.

Harry and Draco both looked at each other and then back at their wives.

Draco could still feel Daphne's finger on his forehead, and the tingling sensation was still there. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. And Harry didn't want Hermione to stop, but how could he let her touch _his_ hair?

"Uh, I think we should go to bed after all," Draco finally replied, looking up at Daphne, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"Well yes, of course," Harry said smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Why shouldn't we?" At once, Daphne guessed his intention.

A smile played on Daphne's face. "I dare say the personalities have switched too," she said. "I can barely tell the difference. You're in muddy water, boys."

"What do you mean?" demanded Draco at once.

"You're suggesting things only Draco could conceive," Daphne said simply. She turned to Draco. "And you're telling me to stop."

Draco blushed bright red. He turned to Harry. "I envy you that scar, Potter."

Harry smiled. "You do have perfect hair."

Hermione and Daphne exchanged small smiles.

"Do you still want your body in your sight?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

A broad grin crossed Draco's face. "Well yours was in mine earlier."

"What?" spluttered Harry.

"He tried to take a shower," Daphne explained.

"Congratulations, Potter," was all Draco could bring himself to say. He was on the brink of laughter.

Harry regarded Daphne. "You saw--"

"Everything," she responded quietly, knowing the question before it left his lips.

Harry turned to Draco.

"Yeah, mate," he whispered. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. The tension could have been sliced with a knife.

"So," Hermione voiced. "You want to, uh..." She searched the boys' faces.

"You'll be okay with that?" asked Daphne as her fingers drifted back to the scar.

Draco grinned slightly and nodded. Harry turned to Hermione, who was watching him very closely. He took a deep breath and looked down at his body, which was really Draco's.

"Alright," replied Harry with full determination as he looked straight into Hermione's eyes.

"Alright," Daphne repeated, and offered Draco a hand. Wordlessly, they went upstairs.

"So. How long have you been after a piece of Potter again?"

Daphne went red. "It's... different," she spluttered, "it's you-- in his shell-- it's nothing to do with liking him--"

Draco's eyes, which were really Harry's, stared straight into her. "That's why I said 'get a piece of him,' didn't I?" He grinned. "I know you, you little vixen. I know how your mind works. And I know you love me."

A smile edged onto her lips. "And you're willing to give me this?"

He pulled her close. "Angel, if you wanted Harry himself I'd let you have it."

Something fluttered inside of her, but she concentrated on shutting the bedroom door. They got rid of their clothes-- within seconds, Daphne had her finger on the scar again, brushing her lips to Draco's. He closed his eyes.

"Bloody hell," Draco sighed, relaxing into the pillows. "I'm going to find a way to steal this thing from Potter's forehead. When we change back into each other I'm not giving it back."

Daphne giggled and moved her lips to kiss the lightning bolt. Draco shivered. She went back to his lips.

"Hermione," he sighed, "you always were the most amazing kisser..." He opened his eyes. Daphne stared back at him.

"You're not Hermione," he said, sounding surprised.

"You're not Draco," she returned, drawing the quilt up around herself.

"What--" Alarmed, he sat up and looked around himself. "But just a second ago, I was in the guest room--" He ran a hand through his hair. "I have my own hair back."

For a second, Daphne thought he sounded disappointed about the hair.

"And my scar... I have my scar back."

Daphne's heart thumped against her ribcage as she saw the aching look in Harry's eyes.

"Do it again."

"What?"

"Do it again. Whatever you did to my scar when I was Draco-- I mean, when Draco was me. Whatever. Just do it again."

Lightly, tentatively, she brought her finger to touch it. His eyes fluttered and closed. "For years all I felt in it was searing pain," Harry told her quietly.

"Doesn't Hermione do this?"

"No. She knew how much it pained me. She probably just doesn't want to hurt me again."

"You'll have to tell her," said Daphne, a smile playing on her lips, "that it's the opposite of pain now."

Harry nodded.

"I guess Draco and Hermione aren't stopping," Harry said shyly.

It was too much for her to handle. "Then there's no reason for us to."

"But..." Harry said.

Daphne placed a finger on his lips. "You want this. I know you do. Am I wrong?"

Harry smiled shyly and shook his head. He ran a hand through Daphne's hair, pulled her close and laid her on the bed. As he was about to lean down for a kiss, there was an impatient knock on the door. Harry groaned in frustration; Daphne's face twisted in disappointment. She got out of bed, threw on a robe and walked up to the door, looking back to make sure Harry was well under covers. She turned the door handle; in walked an irritated Draco, followed by Hermione.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione, glaring at Draco.

"What's going on?" asked Daphne.

"She doesn't believe that I'm really me. She thinks I'm still Harry." He turned to Harry. "Tell your wife that it's you. Tell her we're back in our bodies."

Before Harry could speak, Hermione laughed, arms wrapped around her gown.

"Oh, very funny, Harry," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I know you, alright. I know you would never change back into your body and not come to look for me.'

She addressed Harry, who was now sitting up on the bed. "But I must say, Draco, you're doing a remarkable job parroting Harry's expression, right now."

Harry looked down. Hermione frowned. Daphne sighed. Draco rolled his eyes.

"It's me, Hermione," said Harry quietly. Hermione stood still.

"Can't you see it's us?" Draco said exasperatedly to Hermione. "Look. Lots of sarcasm with a dash of pretention. I'm hot and you want me. It's me, Draco."

Hermione turned to Harry. "Why didn't you come looking for me?"

"We thought you two had just kept going," Harry said quietly. "So we were going to."

"Which we would have done had Draco not jumped up once he realized who he was with," Hermione grumbled.

"Look, it's not that I wasn't having fun-- I just--"

"Wanted to make sure she was alright," Harry filled in. "Don't worry about it, mate. I'd never do anything out of line. You know me-- goody-goody Gryffindor, right?"

He chuckled. "Right then."

Harry went to his wife and gave her a kiss. Daphne wrapped Draco up in a hug.

"I don't think anyone else would ever understand this," Hermione mused.

"Of course they'd understand it," Draco said with mock pretention. "Just look at me."

Everyone laughed. "It's alright," Harry said. "There's no law about disclosing any of this. Plus, I don't think anyone's going to want to know."

"True," Daphne agreed.

"Now where were we all?" Hermione said pointedly.

Daphne chuckled. "Have fun." She shut the door, leaving Draco and Hermione in the hallway.

Draco offered Hermione his arm. "Shall we?" he asked.

Hermione nodded excitedly, taking his arm. "This is so weird."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Are you complaining?" he asked. Hermione suddenly stopped in the corridor and shoved Draco against the wall.

"I've been waiting for this," she breathed. Draco smirked appreciatively.

Back in the bedroom, Harry face was buried in Daphne's neck. She gasped. "You are twice what I've imagined."

Harry smiled and looked at her. "You haven't seen nothing yet."

Daphne couldn't stop herself. "You mean I haven't seen ANYTHING yet."

"Okay, Miss Grammar," Harry said with a devilish grin. "Let's see if I can't make you lose all power of speech."

He moved swiftly. Her eyes flew open with a start and she gave a little "Oh!"

Meanwhile, in the guest room, Draco was taking forever.

"You're teasing me, you great blonde piece of--"

"Careful now, I've never heard you cuss before." He smirked.

"Well if you don't hurry up and get your bloody sweater off you'll hear lots of things you haven't heard before."

"I," Draco said in a low tone, "am sure you'll feel lots of things you'll never felt before."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"Maybe I'll have a new chapter in my next book-- twenty ways to please a--"

"Don't you say it--"

"Mudblood."

He smirked at her. She knew he was just doing it to provoke her. Without a word, she flipped him onto his back.

"Or," she said, a smile playing on her face, "twenty ways you were topped by a--"

"Shut up and kiss me, Granger," he said, and harshly pulled her to him.

xx

A few hours later, Daphne was looking down at Harry, who had his eyes closed and a blissful smile on his face. She lightly stroked his chest and leaned down to nibble his ear. Harry suddenly giggled. Daphne raised her eyebrows.

"What? It tickles." He shifted.

Daphne laughed. "You are too cute."

Harry looked at her for a moment before taking her hand in his and placing it on his forehead.

Daphne didn't need to ask what Harry wanted. She gently started tracing his scar. Harry smiled and closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, the other duo was just as satisfied.

"Wow," said Hermione. "That was... you're just... I've never... wow."

Draco kissed her shoulder. "Well, this sure bought back some happy memories."

"Hmm," said Hermione, smiling at Draco. "You've changed, though."

Draco looked back at her. "How so?"

Hermione turned on her side and and raised her head from the pillow. She ran her fingers through his matted hair.

"You've become more tolerant. More generous," she said, winking. Draco looked surprised.

"Really? Was I not always so... generous?"

"Nope. I guess Daphne wouldn't stand that nonsense, would she?" asked Hermione, stretching out on the bed.

"Daphne." pondered Draco. "Daphne!" He quickly sat up and looked at the clock. "I think they've been in there long enough." He got up from the bed as Hermione threw her face on the pillow. He went to the door and hurried out into the hallway.

"Draco!" called Hermione, pulling on her clothes as fast as she could. "Draco!"

She caught up with him at his bedroom, pounding on the door.

"What?" he asked.

She held up Draco's robe. "You forgot something."

Draco was about to take it from her as Harry, wrapped in a sheet, answered the door. He laughed. "Showing off?"

"Sod it," he said nonchalantly, "everyone in this house has seen it all anyway." He climbed into bed with Daphne. "Thank you both for a lovely night-- Hermione at least, I can't speak for Harry's lack of skill--"

"Hey!" Harry protested.

Daphne giggled. "There is nothing wrong with Harry's skills."

Hermione beamed.

"Good night, guys." Harry smiled.

Grinning, Daphne picked up her wand. "Accio bedsheet!"

The white linen loosed its hold on Harry's body and came rippling through the air to Daphne.

She smirked. "Well, it's my sheet. Plus, I wanted one more look. Can you blame me?"

"No," said Hermione, smiling, and shut the door behind them.

"No," Draco whispered, a smile playing on his face, and Daphne turned in surprise. "Really?"

"I'm entitled to notice an attractive set of buns when I see them," Draco said, unruffled. "He's a Quidditch player. I expected it."

Daphne shrieked with laughter and pelted him with a pillow. "Oh, I'm telling him you said that."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

He caught her and kissed her fiercely. "No you're not."

She melted into his arms. "Okay, maybe not."

"Love you, angel."

"I love you, too."

xx

Harry and Hermione Apparated home, with identical smiles on their faces.

"She's amazing, that Daphne," Harry told Hermione, as they took off their coats.

"I'm sure she is," said Hermione, flopping down on the sofa. "And Draco's not so bad either," she said, watching Harry closely.

Harry chewed on that as he bent down to untie his shoelaces. "I guess he's alright. He _does_ have incredible hair."

Hermione nodded, lost in her own thoughts. "His eyes... I still can't believe I never noticed..."

"I always wondered if his hair was as silky as it looks," said Harry, putting his bare feet up on the coffee table. "Today I found out that it really is... so soft."

Hermione looked at Harry out of the corner of her eyes, he was smiling gently.

"And he has a great sense of humor. Sure, he can be a right arrogant git sometimes, but with those looks, I'd say he's entitled."

Hermione nodded slowly. There was a moment of silence, and then Harry cleared his throat, blushing. "Daphne is a minx, though. Intensely wild."

"Hmm, they're perfect for each other," said Hermione, resting her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Same here," said Harry, putting an arm around Hermione. "Same here."


	2. Chapter 2

Alright... you all said you wanted more, so I'm delivering.

This chapter was written by me... subsequent chapters will be a cooperative effort between me and my good friend/awesome writer Sobiya.

xx

"My status is in danger."

Daphne looked up from her novel. "Excuse me?"

Draco was impatient. "I said, my status is in danger."

"Status?"

"Yes. As the Slytherin Sex God." His face was completely solemn.

Fighting back giggles, Daphne cleared her throat. "And why is that?"

"Blaise Zabini has just owled me. Apparently he and Ginny Weasley... well..." He pulled a piece of parchment out of his pocket and thrust it at Daphne.

Her eyes flickered over the words. "Well then."  
"See? I have to do something about this."

She pondered. "We could role-play."

"Done that," Draco said in a bored voice.

"Threesome?"

"Done that."

"Handcuffs and whip?"

"Last century!"

"Public?"

"Not right now, my hair isn't perfect."

"Well since none of my ideas fly with you, why don't you think of something?"

"Fly! That's it! Daphne, you're a genius!" He kissed her.

Groaning, she looked up at her husband's exuberant face. "Surely you're not suggesting..."

"Quidditch! Yes!" Draco grinned. "We'll get it on while riding a broom! How hot is that?"

"But Draco, I don't feel like flying right now..."

Draco picked up his wand. "Don't worry, I'm not asking you to come."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

He threw on his cloak. "I'm off to find Potter."

"To-- what?" She must have misheard him.

"To find Potter." He lingered on the doorstep.

A smile slowly spread across her lips. "I expect all details will go into a new chapter in your next book?"

His eyes flashed. "Maybe two." And he was gone.

Something began to pound in Daphne's chest-- it was as if someone had let a stampede of elephants loose in her ribcage. It took her a split second to decide to follow him. She gathered up her cloak and wand and disappeared into the fading colors of dusk.

xx

"Under what delusions did you think I would agree to this?"

"I know you get off of work in ten minutes, and I also happen to know that you're free this evening and... well, do you not remember last night?" Draco's voice was impatient. He stood with his arms folded, one leg bent, leaning against the wall. Lurking around the corner, Daphne listened to every word.

Harry shook his head and opened the door to his office but didn't step inside. "Ron knows, you know," he said.

Draco stiffened and stood up straight. "I see. So he doesn't like it, I suppose. And he's ordered you to stay away from me?"

"That's not--" Harry protested.

But Draco didn't wait for him to finish and strode away down the hall. "Draco, wait!" called Harry, but to no avail. Draco had vanished around the corner.

Daphne cursed under her breath. "Dammit."

Harry sprinted down the hallway and caught him by the arm. "Hey."

"How the hell does Ron know?" Draco demanded, before Harry could say anything. "Did you tell him?"

"I didn't say a thing, mate," Harry swore. "You know how things work around here. Everyone knows everything ten seconds after it happens."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

Daphne had emerged from her corner and was now standing in the adjacent hallway, waiting with bated breath.

"So." Draco shifted.

A little smile lit Harry's face. "On a broom, you say? This will be a challenge."

Draco smirked.

"I've always wanted to try it on a broom."

"I'm sure you've never imagined it this way."

Harry blushed. "Or maybe I have."

Daphne felt her knees go weak.

Walking quietly, making sure to keep her distance, Daphne followed the two former rivals out of the building. Once outside, Draco took Harry's hand and Disapparated.

"Crap!" said Daphne. "Now what?" She paced back and forth, trying to think of a place where the two might have went to fly. And then it clicked.

"Quidditch pitch!" she exclaimed, before Disapparating to Hogwarts.

Landing behind the shed, she poked her head out around the door. Draco and Harry were already in the dark sky, which made it a little difficult for Daphne to see them. She went into the shed and looked around for anything that might help her see better. After a fruitless search, she whispered "Accio Omnioculars!" and before long, her well-used pair was in her grip. She crept out the door once more and switched on the nightvision mode, peering into the sky. Scanning the star-sprinkled night, she finally spotted her husband and Harry, streaking across the sky-- literally. Harry was guiding the broom, though he wasn't nearly as accurate or graceful as he had been in any game he had played on the pitch. And Draco was tight behind him, gripping his abdomen, moving in short, hard thrusts.

"Now, that's a sight!" she whispered. The stampede in her chest was rising up again. She leaned against the door, forgetting there was nothing propped against it, and it shut with a bang in the wind. She fell to the ground.

"You hear something?" Draco asked, stopping.

Harry brought the broom to a halt. "No."

"I swear I heard something. Land."

Grumbling, Harry did so. Draco jumped off and headed straight for the shed.

Daphne cursed and looked for a place to hide. She jumped behind a pile of old Quidditch robes and immediately covered her nose. _Yuck,_ she thought, _these probably haven't been washed since--_

_"Homenum revelio!"_ Draco said, and Daphne was brought right out into the open.

Draco stared. "Daphne?"

Even in the darkness, it was evident that she was blushing about five shades of red.

"Draco," Harry groused, "just Stun whoever the hell it is and let's carry on..."

"It's Daphne," Draco said, a grin slowly lighting his face.

Harry came around the back of the shed. "Ahh. So it is."

"Sneaking, spying... what do you suppose we ought to do with her?" Draco clucked his tongue and turned to Harry.

A smirk worthy of Draco crossed Harry's face. "I think I have an idea." He looped an arm around Draco's shoulder and whispered in his ear.

They held a quiet little conference for a few moments, then turned back to Daphne, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

Silence reigned for a few moments, until Daphne broke it. "What are you--"

_"Incarcerous!"_ Draco shouted, at the same time Harry hit her with a Silencing Spell. They brought her out to the middle of the pitch.

Draco looked down at her; fire blazed in his otherwise icy eyes. Harry's, she noticed, were gleaming jade, fixed on her with malicious intent; she couldn't help but think that this was going to be the best night of her life.

"You know, Potter," Draco began, his eyes still on Daphne, "I never got the chance to beat you to the Snitch."

Harry snorted. "I don't believe for a second that it's possible."

"If only I could take you on right now--" Draco let his wife absorb the double-entendre, then lifted his eyes to meet Harry. "I would take you down."

Daphne's mind was still filled with the images she'd seen just moments ago. Her heart was a cage. There were hundreds of Cornish Pixies inside, flapping their wings, desperately trying to escape.

Harry shook his head in mock regret. "Too bad we don't have a Snitch."

"But we have a spy," Draco said, "and that's almost the same." Advancing on his wife, Draco knelt next to her and whispered two words.

_"spell that animates the snitch"_

Daphne gasped. Looking beneath her, she saw that she was ten inches from the ground and rapidly rising.

"You might have a chance, Malfoy," Harry jeered, mounting his broom. "She's not as fast as the Snitch."

Suddenly she gained speed, and was gone.

"After you," Draco said with mock graciousness, and the two wizards sped off into the darkness.

They zoomed across the pitch and followed Daphne, who had already escaped the pitch. They were neck-and-neck as they approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Nice aerodynamics," Draco noted, "without those cumbersome robes."

Harry laughed. "Bit of a distraction, though." He looked his opponent up and down.

Taking full advantage of this knowledge, Draco edged his broom even closer to Harry's. Skin brushed skin and Harry felt that familiar tingle surge through his veins. He slowed ever so slightly.

Draco bent his head into the wind and rocketed forward with a laugh. "We're still in a competition, Potter!" Diving left, he sped towards his wife. His fingers grazed her arm, then his arms were around her, and she was on the back of his broom. He slowed and landed, removing the charm.

"What the bloody hell--" Windswept and smiling, Daphne struggled in her ropes.

Harry landed. "You won't be getting out of those anytime soon," he said smoothly.

"Ah," Draco said, "but to the victor go the spoils." He smiled warmly at Daphne and lifted her into his arms.

"And to the loser goes the victor?" Harry's eyebrow arched.

Draco took him by the collar. "To the victor goes everything," he growled softly. "I'll put you where I want you. And with all the places I want you to go-- this will take a while."

Harry trembled. He wasn't sure if he could handle everything Draco wanted to give him.

But he was sure as hell going to try.

As they knelt in the grass behind the shed, Daphne and Harry felt much the same way about Draco. They were both eager to give in to him, to let him do anything he wanted.

Daphne spent the night lost in ecstasy; she spent the whole night busied with both Harry and Draco at the same time, and through Draco's smooth, strict instruction, they did things to her that she never dreamed possible. Even after she was tired, raw almost, they kept going; Draco had never been one to hold back. She wouldn't have it any other way.

Harry, however, held on because he ached to get inside Draco. On the broom, he had been the receiver, closing his eyes, feeling the raw, animalistic sensation that clawed at his skin and sent tangible exhilaration through his veins. Now, he wanted to return the favor; but Draco hadn't let him. Yet.

Draco's ice-blue eyes flickered towards the heavens as Daphne, on her hands and knees, serviced him with her mouth. She could take him all the way down her throat, and each time he thrust into her, he soared into bliss. Controlling his own pleasure, he brought his gaze back to Harry, whose longing was evident in every twist of his mouth and the way the skin around his eyes creased as he prevented himself from explosion.

Harry's eyes were tremulous jade fire, his eyelashes dancing like hummingbird wings, _please, Draco--_

Mischievously, Draco slowed. He ran his fingers through Daphne's hair. He was overcome by the taboo, deluged by the passion. "What do you say, angel, should we give you a break?"  
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry's almost got me there--"

"If I may be so bold," Draco said with a smirk, not taking his eyes off Harry, "I think Harry has been close for quite some time now."

"So let him finish," Daphne said.

"I mean to."

She swallowed hard and let Harry slip out of her, watched as her dominant Draco got on his hands and knees, and turned back toward Harry, who seemed to think this was all too good to be true.

"Come on, Potter," he growled softly. "I know you've been waiting for it."

Without another word, Harry was behind him, moving faster and harder than Daphne had ever thought possible. She watched the face of her husband, expecting grimaces of pain; instead, he was in the throes of rapture, his eyes rolling back in his head, biting softly on his lower lip--

And then a yell pierced the quiet night and Harry was finished and they both dropped to the ground, satisfied.

"That," Daphne said plainly, "was the greatest thing I have ever experienced."

Harry laughed. "I would have to agree with you."

They both turned to Draco, whose eyes were glazed over. A stupid little smile played on his face.

"Draco?"

He rolled over. "Potter, why did you spend all that time fighting with me in school when we could have been doing _that?_"

Harry laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

Here we go... lots of love to all those who reviewed... if you like the story please leave us a note! 3

xx

Three days had passed since that adventurous night at the Quidditch shed, but but not a single word was spoken about the incident in the Malfoy household. Daphne went to work as usual, Draco finished another chapter in his new novel "Pleasure by Potions," and they both had enjoyed an incredible night of love-making. Everything was fairly normal. Or so it seemed. Draco couldn't shake off this weird feeling of an unidentifiable itch.

Lying in bed, with Daphne snoring softly beside him, Draco thought about a certain messy-haired man and the way he took him in the shed. Rough and gentle at the same time. That had been the most intense experience of his life. Naturally, he had been worried at first, but as soon as Harry had touched him, he had relaxed. Somehow, he just knew that Harry would never be careless and hurt him. And he had been so right.

Now, after three days of not seeing him, Draco felt restless and dull. Daphne, oblivious to his true needs, had engaged him into what she thought was a night of wild sex, but Draco didn't find the same thrill as he did before. His heart wasn't really into it and he was afraid that their act of love had only been perfunctory. He couldn't tell Daphne to stop, he never refused his lovers, but he had to find a way to release his frustration.

His mind turned back to a Harry, and the wonder that was his eyes. So intense and hypnotizing, like a bubbling potion or a dark spell. A Slytherin color. Maybe that's why Draco was so captivated by them. But sometimes, he feared them. He was sure if he stared into them for too long he might just lose himself completely. He felt both exhilarated and terrified by the thought.

He shifted his hips on the bed carefully. His butt was still slightly sore. He looked over at Daphne's sleeping form and slipped his left hand under the covers. He was wearing nothing but his black silk boxers.

As he steered his mind back to Harry, in all his naked glory, his cock twitched in interest. He moved his hand inside his boxers, and slowly stroked his growing member, imagining Harry's hot mouth around it. Somehow, his dry palm and the imaginary wet mouth didn't mix well together. He quickly took out his hand and licked his palm thoroughly. Then, making sure that Daphne was still sound asleep, Draco placed his hand under his boxers, grabbed his now fully erect penis, and engulfed it in his moist hand. Sighing softly, Draco played images of Harry in his head, as his hand moved faster and faster on his cock.

He thought of Harry smiling seductively at him, Harry nude and sweating, Harry banging into him relentlessly, Harry's fingernails digging into his skin, Harry throwing his head back yelling in pleasure...

He could feel his release building inside him, as he stroked harder and faster. _Come on, Harry, come on… please... let me... oh, let me, let me, _let me_… _His eyes were shut tightly and suddenly an image flashed in front of his mind.

Harry grabbing Draco's face with both hands and kissing him full on the mouth, their teeth colliding, their tongues dancing, and their breath dying.

Draco opened his glazed eyes and gasped silently as the orgasm crashed through his body. He lay still for a moment, then groaned. "Fuck."

He quickly cleaned himself up and willed his heart to calm down. He couldn't believe he had just wanked to Harry bleeding Potter while lying next to his wife. Daphne stirred beside him and placed a hand on his heaving, sweaty chest.

Draco looked away.

xx

He awoke to the smell of sausage wafting up the stairs from the kitchen below. Pushing the memory of last night from his brain, he dressed and went downstairs.

"Morning, love," said Daphne in a cheerful voice. "Do you want eggs?"

_I want Harry,_ whined a petulant voice in his head, while he plastered on a smile and said "No, thanks."

With an impish grin, she set a plate of pancakes and sausage in front of him. "So. Did I give you enough material for a new chapter?"

A half-hearted smile made its way onto his face. He disguised his lack of enthusiasm by shoveling a forkful of pancake into his mouth. "Oh, I have some definite ideas for some new chapters."

Which wasn't a total lie, of course. He just needed a new research partner. Someone with a considerable lack of breasts.

"Well, I'm off to work. I've got a long day ahead of me. Someone's stolen some research from a Healer at St. Mungo's, and I have to help re-create it." She shouldered her bag and wrapped a scarf around her neck. "Thank God Hermione's going to come help. I don't know what we'd do without her book smarts." She gave Draco a kiss. "Bye, hon."

"See you."

Inside, his heart was doing a little victory dance in the form of heavy pounding. This was too good to be true. Hermione and Daphne both locked up in the Department of Mysteries, Harry bored to death with nothing to do at the Auror office... perfection.

He wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and quickly cleaned up the kitchen, then ran upstairs for a shower. As the hot water ran down his body in little rivers and the steam enveloped him, he could think only of Harry, and all the ways his tongue could trace the plains and drifts of his body. Goosebumps prickled on his arms. While he combed conditioner into his hair, he visualized Harry's hand's running through the white-blond strands, pulling them as he slammed him from behind. When he stepped out of the shower to dry himself, he remembered the very first night he had seen Harry naked, looking down at the Gryffindor's body as his own.

_Dammit,_ he thought, _this needs to end._

Dressing himself in a new pair of dark blue jeans and a black turtleneck, he sat down at the kitchen table to write a note.

_Harry--_

_We need to have a chat. Alone. Can you drop by sometime today?_

_Draco_

He gave it to his eagle owl and watched her fly off into the early morning sunshine. After a moment of sitting there, staring into space, he got up and began re-arranging Daphne's collection of decorative glassware. She'd kill him later, but he'd just maintain he was doing it for aesthetic purposes, or to combat writer's block. She'd laugh it off and nail him. Like always.

He'd just finished switching a Fenton vase with a weird little leaf on a column that Daphne said was a priceless Shintani, whatever that meant, when he heard a tiny pop behind him and turned to see Harry.

"That was almost fatal," Draco said, his heart pounding.

"To who?"  
"Me. If I'd have broken this, Daphne would have killed me."

"Somehow, I don't think Daphne would Avada Kedavra you. Maybe she'd kill you by a sex overdose, but to me, that doesn't sound like a bad way to go."

And suddenly, Draco was painfully aware of the fact that he'd lost all ability to create a sharp-tongued comeback.

"So." Harry smiled, briefly noting how hot Draco looked with wet hair and that outfit. For him, seduction was effortless. "What did you want to talk about?"

Draco looked up at him and suddenly it hit him that they were really alone in the house. He gulped. Harry was standing with his hands inside his pockets, the two upper buttons of his black shirt were undone, revealing his vanilla white skin. Oh, how badly he wanted to lick that collarbone…

Draco shook himself internally and took a small step towards Harry. _What do I want to talk about? I don't know. You? Me? Us? This? Whatever this is._

"Er…" Draco faltered, looking into Harry's eyes, then quickly looking away. "You look nice," he said finally, staring intently at his feet.

Harry smiled and stepped closer. "So, you called me here just to tell me that?"

Draco gave a small smile. "Well, no. The reason I called you here was to--" he bit his lower lip, then released it-- "to ask you… have you been thinking about it, too?" He hoped that Harry would understand what he wanted to ask, what he wanted to do. Harry shifted on his foot, frowning.

"Thinking about what?"

Draco cursed silently. _Oh, well done, Draco. Make a fool of yourself, go on!_

"You know… about what happened…" Draco trailed off, staring carefully at Harry. Was that a flicker of a mischief he saw in his eyes?

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stepping away from Draco, his eyebrows raised. But yes, there was a definite twitching at the corner of his lips.

Draco suddenly strode forward and shoved Harry up against the brick wall. He pressed his body against him and leaned close to whisper in Harry's ear.

"Would you like me to remind you?" he said softly, and felt Harry shiver slightly, trapped between Draco and the wall.

"Remind me what?" asked Harry, his voice filled with irrepressible laughter.

Growling, Draco bit down on Harry's ear, earning a hearty groan from Harry. He leaned back a little to look at Harry's eyes, inches away from his.

"I can't take it anymore," he said harshly. "I want… more."

Harry arched forward, grinding their groins together.

"Me too," he said, his mind racing. _This is it, _Harry thought. _No going back now._

Draco leaned closer to bring his lips to Harry's--

Suddenly, there was a tapping noise outside the glass window. Twin sighs of frustration escaped from the boys. Draco grudgingly pushed himself away from Harry and walked over to the window. Opening it, he let the barn owl fly inside, which was carrying a note. The owl dropped it on the low table in front of the sofa. Draco quickly grabbed the owl, shooing it out the window. The owl hooted indignantly as Draco slammed the window shut. He walked over to Harry, who was still leaning against the wall.

"Aren't you going to read it?" asked Harry as Draco placed his hands on either side of his head.

"No," said Draco leaning closer.

"It could be important," Harry said quietly.

Draco looked closely at Harry then smirked, moving away. "It's not for me. It's Granger's handwriting."

Harry looked surprised and walked over to the low table and picked up the note. As Draco sat down on the sofa, looking dejected, Harry opened and read the note.

_Harry,_

_I am at St. Mungo's. Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I felt very dizzy at work and Daphne brought me here. I feel better now but the healer wants you to be here, too. _

_She wants to put me through a pregnancy test!_

_Hermione_

Harry looked up from the letter, not wanting to believe what the words on the parchment told him.

"Summons?" asked Draco, lounging on the sofa. Harry numbly folded the note and pocketed it, nodding.

"I have to go. Hermione's at St. Mungo's," he said, his voice void of any emotion. Draco frowned and leaned forward.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"I guess I'll find out when I get there," said Harry, feeling regret that he had to leave. He really wanted to stay, even more now that he knew what kind of news could be awaiting him.

As he moved away, Draco suddenly stood up.

"Wait!" he said, looking extremely disappointed. "We didn't get to…. um, talk."

Harry smiled. "You know what? I don't expect it will take too long at St. Mungo's. Why don't we meet up somewhere afterwards?"

Draco heart soared. _Yes!_

"Okay, sure. How about The Leaky Cauldron? Eight o'clock tonight?" he asked, his heart banging against his ribs.

"Perfect," said Harry. "I'll see you then." _I might need the comfort,_ he added silently.

Draco nodded, and with a _pop_ Harry was gone, leaving him feeling hollow.


	4. Chapter 4

We loved your reviews from last time! Please keep sending them... you all rock!!

--Sobiya & Elizabeth

xx

"Harry," Hermione said breathlessly, her cheeks tinged pink with anticipation. "Oh, Harry, what if it comes back positive?" She was beaming, still in a hospital gown, but sitting upright in her bed.

"Then we'll be having a baby," he said, forcing a smile.

"Oh, thanks for the insight." She laughed. "If we have a girl, let's name her Margaret, after my grandma. And we can call her Maggie."

"Sure thing. You're the one having the labor pains, you should get to name the little tyke."

Harry thought the grin on her face must have been affixed by a Permanent Sticking Charm. He indulged her and let her wring his hand while she spouted names and nursery decorating ideas. At the same time, he made silent prayers for a negative result.

His prayers were soon answered as a stout little Healer with a sad smile entered the room. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter, the results came back negative." Hermione's face fell, and the Healer squeezed her free hand in a comforting manner reminiscent of Molly Weasley. "I know you were hoping for a little one." With that, she left the room.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Well," he said brightly, "that's that."

"That's that?" She turned to him in confusion. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but you sound relieved."

"Well, think about it, Hermione-- are we even ready for kids yet?"

"How are we not ready for kids?" she exploded. "We love each other, we have a big house, we're both making the Galleons to support a baby..."

_Two out of three ain't bad,_ Harry thought ruefully.

Hermione watched his face closely. "Fine. I guess if you don't want a family with me, we made a mistake somewhere along the way." Tears filled her eyes.

No matter what, he couldn't stand to see her like this. Immediately, he wrapped her in a hug. "Oh, Hermione... I never meant it that way. You know that. I just--" He broke off, not knowing where he was going with this.

She began to sob. "I understand, Harry. You're so afraid that something might happen to us, and our baby will be left all alone, just like you were."

Harry let his silence be his assent and continued to rub her back. It was times like this when he was glad to have that excuse.

xx 

After taking his wife out to dinner for some comfort food-- grilled salmon and green beans, in Hermione's case-- he'd left her at home with a pint of ice cream and a novel and raced to the Leaky Cauldron. He arrived before Draco, and chose an out-of-the-way table where he could enjoy his Butterbeer in peace.

Before long, he found himself staring off into space, dumbly fascinated by the initials carved into the wood behind the bar. He only noticed Draco after he slid into the seat opposite him, drink in hand.

"How'd it go?"

"She's not pregnant."

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he just nodded.

"I don't want kids yet," Harry admitted.

"I wouldn't mind if Daphne got pregnant," Draco mused. "Little rugrats tearing up my house... I actually think I'd like it." He chuckled.

Harry wished he could feel the same way, but his heart was becoming increasingly divided, especially when he dared look up and into Draco's eyes. He'd lost all the confidence that brimmed in him earlier that day.

"So." Draco cleared his throat. "We're supposed to talk."

"Yeah." A bit of a smirk made its way onto Harry's face. "Don't forget, you initiated this."

"And you failed to answer my question."

"I believe," Harry said, regaining a trace of spunk, "that I answered your question fully."

Draco's heart began to pound again. "Oh, no you didn't. That was just a tease."

"Alright, what do you want to know?" asked Harry.

"How much do you want me?" Draco asked bluntly.

Harry's mouth opened in surprise for a millisecond, and then he replied boldly.

"More than anything."

Draco smirked, satisfied. He took a sip of his drink, watching Harry turning several shades of red. He put his bottle down on the table and leaned close to Harry.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?" he asked, a challenge in his voice.

It didn't take Harry long to make up his mind. He stood up and offered his hand to Draco, who took it without hesitation. Pulling him to his feet Harry led him up the stairs, and down a long corridor with many doors on either side. When they turned another corner, Draco grew impatient.

"Where are we going, Potter?" Draco asked, his heart racing sickeningly fast. He'd be damned if he let this moment go. Nothing would interrupt them this time.

"Patience, Malfoy," said Harry, turning to smirk over his shoulder at Draco.

_Patience?_ thought Draco. _I don't think so._

He yanked on Harry's hand to make him stop and pulled him to his chest. "Enough," Draco whispered, and without giving Harry a chance to reply, he pushed his lips against his.

Harry was still for a whole two seconds before he found himself responding automatically, running his fingers through the silky blonde hair. Draco reciprocated eagerly and with much enthusiasm. He reached his hand up to cup Harry's face. Harry moaned softly into his mouth as he felt Draco's tongue flicker out and run over his lower lips.

When they parted both were breathless and clinging to each other.

"Maybe we should take this inside?" asked Draco, breathing hard and looking around the corridor. "Anyone could walk out and see us wrapped around each other."

"Yes, that was my original plan before you assaulted me," said Harry, a wide smile on his face. He pulled Draco and sprinted down the corridor to the rented room.

Harry was giddy with excitement and anxiety as they reached the door, and he fumbled with the keys. Draco took out his wand and with a single flick the door clicked open. Draco pushed open the door, stepping inside, and Harry followed, feeling lightheaded and a bit nervous.

Well, actually, make that a lot nervous.

He closed the door and locked it. His palms were suddenly sweaty and he quickly wiped them on his jeans. Draco walked to the bed, which was neatly made and tucked with a white sheet. He turned around and looked at Harry.

"Well, here we are," he said, spreading his arms in a gesture.

"Yeah, here we are," echoed Harry, unable to move from his spot by the door.

Draco seemed to sense Harry's anxiety, because he slowly walked up to Harry, took his face in his hands and kissed him softly on his lips. He pulled back to look at him.

"Alright?" he asked. Harry nodded and pulled him back into the kiss, this time deeper and more urgent.

_Wow,_ Harry thought, _this is really happening._

Draco licked Harry's lower lip, requesting entrance. Once granted, both their tongues danced together. Harry was lost in ecstasy and thought he could go on doing this forever.

Well, maybe not forever. He was rapidly becoming breathless, and getting increasingly aroused. Hands straying to interesting places told him that he wasn't the only one yearning for more.

Draco's hand stilled on Harry's hip and he broke away from the kiss, resting his lips on Harry's cheek, ghosting it with warm breath.

"Bed," Draco whispered.

"Yes," replied Harry, in his euphoric haze. _Oh yes, bed!_

Harry made to move to the bed, but Draco caught his arm, stopping him.

"Clothes," he said. Harry looked down at his fully clothed self and back at Draco, whose eyes were blazing with desire. As Harry started to undo his buttons with shaky fingers, Draco pulled out his wand. The next moment found Harry standing starker, looking down at his bare body in shock.

Draco's breath caught in his throat; he stepped forward and ran a finger down Harry's chest. Harry felt dizzy; he needed to lay down. He was sure his knees would give way any second now. Draco leaned down to envelope Harry's right nipple in his mouth.

"Oh, God…" Harry moaned, marveling that he was still on his feet.

Draco stepped away and quickly shed his clothes. Somehow he was trembling less than his companion. Harry eyes followed Draco's perfect body as he sauntered over to the bed. Draco stood there for a moment, inspecting the bed, before casting a Scourgify on the bedsheets.

"Much better," he muttered, stowing his wand away and climbing into the bed. He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes to calm his nerves. He could feel Harry's intense gaze upon him.

Harry stood there, entranced, watching how gorgeous Draco was with his pale skin, platinum hair and sharp features. Like Adonis himself.

"Potter?" said Draco, opening an eye to look at him.

"Huh?" said Harry stupidly.

"Are you planning on joining me sometime tonight?" he asked, his voice full of mockery.

"Oh, right," said Harry, stepping forward. _This is really happening, isn't it? _He sat on the edge of the bed, not meeting Draco's eyes.

_What is the matter with you?_ Harry reprimanded himself. _You've done this before, you've been inside him, for Merlin's sake. Get a grip!_

He felt the bed shift behind him and a warm hand on his back.

Draco softly kissed his shoulder-blade. Then, placing a hand over Harry's chest, he pulled him backwards until Harry was lying beside him. Harry looked up at the fading paint on the ceiling and closed his eyes.

_This is it._

xx

Gently, Draco turned Harry's face so their eyes met. "Harry."

And all of a sudden, all his inhibitions flew out the window. He was no longer _Potter, _no longer the enemy; he was Harry, Draco's lover, and in his arms he was fully accepted.

Harry flung himself at Draco, wrapping himself around his perfect body, and pressed his lips to his. Draco was slightly caught off guard, but he accepted it, reciprocating by thrusting his tongue inside Harry's mouth. Instantly, Harry became rock-hard.

Draco pulled away, laughing softly. "Someone's eager."

"Aren't you?" Harry demanded, his heart beating inside him like a caged beast.

And in Harry's soft, ever-changing, urgent eyes, Draco realized the magnitude of the situation. _God, yes... if you only knew how long I've wanted this, us, alone..._

But he said nothing, allowing his answer to be communicated tacitly, pulling Harry back to him. They let their lips go, their tongues, sharing kisses as if they were oxygen. Their hands-- Draco's soft and manicured fingers, Harry's rough palms-- traveled each other's skin desperately, trying to cover every inch of flesh, consuming each other with their desire.

Wordlessly, Harry drifted to Draco's shoulder, drawing his teeth gently across the firm skin. He let his hands drift over Draco's muscles, his flat stomach, the perfect curves of his arse. "Draco," he whispered urgently, "I'm yours, aren't I?"

A devilish grin crossed Draco's face, and in one quick movement, he pinned Harry beneath him. "Every last square inch."

Harry sighed with pleasure.

Draco brushed the fringe of black hair away from Harry's forehead. "I think it's my turn to give this a try." He stretched a finger out and traced the lightning bolt that was etched into Harry's forehead.

Beneath his touch, Harry trembled.

"I remember how it feels," murmured Draco, "the way it sends shivers through your blood--"

"--like ice and fire," Harry filled in, his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation.

Draco watched Harry's face, the way his eyelids fluttered like the wings of moths, the soft blush that tinged his cheeks when he became more and more aroused. _God, he's... he's..._

Harry's bottom lip caught on his teeth and he let out a soft moan.

_...beautiful._

Draco paused. At that moment, a sense of urgency overtook Harry and he wrenched free, bringing Draco back down to his side. He brushed back blond hair and enveloped Draco's earlobe in his mouth. "Fuck me," he whispered as he bit down gently, and goosebumps prickled on Draco's neck.

A smirk lit Draco's face. "You mean you don't want any foreplay?" he teased.

"Draco..."

He only smiled. Trailing his hands down Harry's torso, Draco watched him with amused interest as he positioned his lips at the very tip of Harry's cock. And waited.

It didn't take long. "Please..."

And he slammed his mouth down onto him, his lips crashing down onto his pelvis, watching smugly as those emerald-green eyes flew open in surprise.

"God-- Draco-- where did you learn... _oh..._" His eyes closed as Draco began to make a low sound, massaging his shaft with his tongue.

He came up for air, and to answer Harry's question. "I'm a Slytherin, mate. We're born with skills like this."

The quip barely registered with Harry. "Again... do it again..." _God, why can't Hermione take me like this?_

Draco only smiled and leisurely slipped his cock back inside his mouth. He expertly clenched his lips around the base and came gliding up, teasing him gently with his teeth. A shiver ran down Harry's spine. He was in heaven. Slowly, Draco took him back down his throat, this time pumping his cock in and out, letting the tip glide against the walls of his throat. He kept that fluid motion until Harry's hips started to twitch and buck against him-- holding him down, Draco then leisurely brought his mouth back up, leaving his lips surrounding the very tip. Holding him at the base to steady him, Draco pressed his tongue flat against the tip and began moving the head, circling hungrily. He wanted him back in his throat, but he knew Harry wanted this to last, and he was bent on pleasing him. So he continued to tease, moving his lips off, licking the shaft like the most delicious ice cream cone, dipping his tongue in to taste the first drops of pre-cum. He knew Harry was getting close, knew that his desire to orgasm was probably overcoming his wish to go on like this for hours. But Draco was in control at the moment, and held off.

"Tease," complained Harry, dropping his head back on the pillow in frustration.

"Yeah." Draco's eyes sparkled with mischief.

Harry reached for Draco, running his fingers through his cornsilk hair. "Your hair is perfect," he murmured, letting it fall through his fingers.

"You think sucking up to me is going to help?"

"You're the one who's been sucking."

Draco grinned appreciatively and, after briefly teasing the underside of Harry's cock with the tip of his tongue, swallowed it whole again.

"Yes," Harry panted, as Draco labored. "Oh, God... yes... please..._ yes..."_

Eyes glued to Harry's face, which was twisted into contortions of pleasure, Draco kept going. As his eyes squeezed tighter and tighter, as his hands twisted the old white bedsheet, as his teeth clenched-- he stopped.

Harry flew up from his position. "Damn you, Malfoy, go back! I was so close... go back... finish me..." His tone was pleading.

But Draco just laughed. "I plan for this night to last a lot longer than that," he said, and Harry fell back on the bed, exhausted but left wanting.

Draco grinned to himself. _Perfect._

Then Harry pulled Draco's face up to his. "I want to taste myself," he whispered hoarsely, and without a second's warning, pressed his lips to his lover's and thrust his tongue into his mouth.

"Like it?"

It was evident. "Yes."

Leaning back into his pillow, Draco smiled. "Do you want to taste me?"

"I," Harry said, rising to his knees, "want to get to you before you wear me out. Which I'm sure is your plan."

"Of course it is."

"Then get up."

Draco obeyed, positioning himself on his hands and knees, while Harry rummaged in the pockets of his crumpled robes.

"What are you looking for?"

Unblushingly, Harry held up a bottle of lubrication. "With as hard as I want to take you, we're going to need it."

Draco tried to ignore the increase in his heart rate. "Well, you thought of everything, didn't you?"

"I'm a Gryffindor. We're born with skills like this."

"Touche."

Harry coated himself with the clear, cool liquid, then slid gently into Draco, hard as metal. "How much can you take?" he asked, hungrily running his hands over Draco's body.

Draco steeled himself. "Everything you can give me."

"Good." And, gripping Draco's hips, he began to pound into him with every ounce of energy he had.

Almost at once, Draco's eyes rolled back into his head. "Oh, God, Harry..."

There it was again. _Harry._ He began moving at a breakneck pace, inspired by passion, by desire, by beauty, by God help him, maybe even love. Wanting Draco to feel every ounce of what was coursing through him, he rested his torso against Draco's back, taking hold of his shoulders, as if somehow he could transfer all of that emotion and fire through some sort of erotic and supernatural science.

Draco, by some miracle, reacted. He shut his eyes and concentrated solely on the sensation, reminding himself that it was Harry behind him, finally, just the two of them, exploring everything they'd been suppressing for years and years.

"I wish," he said petulantly, "that there was a mirror on this wall. I want to watch you--" he drew in a sharp breath-- "fuck me."

Harry reached for his wand, and in a flick of his wrist, Transfigured the entire wall into a flawless mirror.

"Oh, God." Draco's breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene. "Oh, God. Harry. It's really you."

A mirthful little laugh escaped Harry's lips. "And who did you expect-- Peeves?"

"Oh, shut up," Draco said indignantly, though he was smiling. "C'mon. Keep going." He moved his hips, urging Harry to continue.

Harry's smile turned impish. "You teased me."

"You have less self-control than I do."

"Good point." And he slammed into him again, not breaking pace, watching Draco's face intently.

Draco's eyes danced as he tried intently to focus on Harry's face in the mirror, tried to watch as his hands traveled his flawless skin. _God, those hands... _every brush of rough palms and fingertips loosed another river of adrenaline in Draco's body. Then one hand traveled down, down, wrapping fingers around Draco's cock, beginning to stroke it with a sense of purpose. Draco didn't know how much longer he could keep it together without going into sensory overload. Harry was hitting his A-spot just perfectly, and he was so close, so close...

Harry leaned down again and ran his tongue over Draco's shoulder blade. "I'm going to cum," he whispered into Draco's ear, and he understood the underlying message: _And there's not a thing you're going to do to stop me._

The rough fingers loosed their hold on his cock and went back to gripping his hip; Draco watched their crashing forms in the mirror, aching for Harry's release.

"Cum for me," he growled, barely realizing the syllables were coming out of his mouth. "Cum for me, Harry."

_Harry..._

"Draco... oh God, here it comes... _Draco!"_ He shot his load into Draco's ass, a silent scream of ecstasy painted onto his face.

Draco savored the feeling of being filled with Harry's seed, sighing with pleasure as Harry dropped exhaustedly onto the bed.

"We're not done here," Draco said, his eyes sparkling.

"I can't-- my legs," Harry puffed, fatigued.

"I told you I was going to wear you out."

"I believe," Harry said with a smile, "that I was the one who predicted that."

"You were right. Now come on. Get on your knees."

It was a command, and Harry gladly obeyed, though he didn't know if his limbs would hold up for what Draco had in mind.

Draco slipped into Harry and at once let his eyes drift closed. _God, _he thought, _so tight..._

He began to move inside of him, slowly, savoring every inch of his canal, deciding how to tease him this time. Upon glancing into the mirror, however, he knew that he really didn't have all that much self-control. Harshly grabbing Harry's hips, he began to fuck him without discretion, the same way he fucked Daphne when she wanted to take it from behind. She liked it rough. And judging from the look on Harry's face, so did he.

Briefly, Harry thought about asking Hermione to invest in a strap-on. There was nothing like this, nothing like the way Draco's long, thick cock filled his ass, nothing like the burning, insistent way Draco grabbed at his hips, his thighs, his shoulders. Nothing like the insatiable way he delved into his core, plumbing the unplumbed depths of Harry's body to find the source of unfamiliar and fierce pleasure. If he could stay in this room forever, doing nothing but this, he felt he would be satisfied.

Harry had quickened Draco's sensitivity earlier, and he was on the edge of oblivion within minutes. "Harry," Draco breathed, "God, you feel amazing..."

"So do you," he sighed blissfully, and watched him intently as he neared climax. He tried to memorize everything: the way his eyes shut tight, then fly open, then shut tight again; the way his lip caught on his teeth between moans; the way he would throw his head back, as if he couldn't control it.

Draco's thighs trembled. He was within seconds of explosion.

"Fill me," Harry suddenly said, his voice low and throaty. "Claim me."

And Draco's pelvis crashed sensationally against Harry's already-red ass, sending him over the edge.

Harry watched in sweet satisfaction as Draco's orgasm sent his body reeling, and closed his eyes to relish the streams of cum being released inside his body.

"God," Draco panted, as he fell back on the bed next to Harry, "that was... it was..."

"Wonderful," Harry provided.

He closed his eyes and a smile spread across his face. "That's the understatement of the year."


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for your kind words & reviews! We love to see what you guys think! It's our first venture into slash writing, so we love opinions. Happy reading!!

xx

Harry found it very difficult to leave Draco's arms that night. He lingered with him on the threshold of the room in the Leaky Cauldron, unable to get enough of him, his soft hair, his gentle touches, or his tender voice.

_"Harry…"_

It was amazing how sensational his name sounded when spoken by Draco. It could turn Harry's heart upside down and send it diving to his knees. It was nothing like how anybody else ever addressed him, not even Hermione. Finally, drunk on Draco's lips, Harry forced himself to Disapparate from his little utopia and go home.

He hadn't wanted the night to be over. But unfortunately, like any good thing, this, too, had to come to an end. Harry promised himself that this was only the beginning of an amazing journey with Draco. He had never felt this strongly for anyone before. This was just one of those things that he was instantly certain of. A feeling similar to his first flight on a broomstick and the first swish of his holly wand. The moment they had touched, he knew it was meant to be. It was that simple.

_Or was it?_

Apparating into the livingroom, he found the light to his bedroom still on and cringed. It was well after midnight. Hanging up his cloak on the hook by the door, Harry took a deep breath and made for the bedroom.

Hermione was in bed reading _Sense and Sensibility_, an empty bowl of ice cream sitting beside her. She looked up as Harry entered and slowly closed the book. She pointedly checked the wall clock, which showed the time to be 1:23 am, and asked stiffly, "Where have you been?"

Harry shrugged, fighting to look nonchalant. "Out with friends." He opened his wardrobe and took out his pajamas. Hermione stared back at Harry, her lips pressed into a thin line. She reminded him creepily of Professor McGonagall when disapproving of his tardiness.

"Out with friends," Hermione repeated. "Well, I sure wish that I was still your best friend, Harry. Maybe then I'd get more attention from you."

Harry stilled, halfway through taking off his shirt, but didn't reply. He wanted to go as far as he could without getting into an argument, and keeping his mouth shut was always a good idea.

"I can lend you an ear, too, you know," she said softly, watching Harry take off his shirt. "If you need to talk."

Harry sighed in frustration, standing shirtless and unable to open the buttons on his pajama top.

"Is that what this was about?" asked Hermione, sitting up and looking closely at Harry. "Were you out so late because you are upset about the pregnancy? We could always try again. The healer said--"

"Why are these damned button-holes so small?" Harry growled angrily, throwing the shirt down on the floor. Hermione sat there in shock, watching as Harry fished out an old gray T-shirt form the wardrobe and pulled it on. Furious at Harry's lack of attentiveness, she threw the covers back and jumped out of bed.

"What is the matter with you?" she asked heatedly, glaring at Harry. "Are you even listening to me?"

Harry bent down to pick up the shirt from the floor and placed it back in the wardrobe. Suddenly, Hermione strode over to him, grabbed his shirt and forced him to look at her. "I am talking to you!" she snapped vehemently.

"Hermione, I know, I was listening…" Harry said, alarmed by the sudden fierceness.

"Then look at me when I'm talking!"

"Why? I don't listen with my eyes, Hermione," he said jerking out of her grasp. "I use my ears for that. You need to calm down."

"Calm down?" she repeated, her eyebrows raised. She let go of his shirt and took a step back.

_Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut?_ Harry pondered ruefully.

"How-- how do you expect me to calm down, Harry?" she asked, stung. "How do you expect me to calm down when all my husband does is walk away from me? When he can't even open up to me and he spends every available moment hiding away with some friends? How do you expect me to calm down when it feels like I c-can't give him anything he desires?"

Her voice broke and she turned away. Harry was sure she was furiously blinking away the tears. If there was anything he couldn't bear, it was someone getting hurt because of him. Especially Hermione. He quickly stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, please," he said pleadingly. "Don't cry. It isn't anything like that. I am not hiding away."

He slowly turned her around to face him. A trace of a single tear was visible on her left cheek. Harry wiped it with his thumb and kissed her cheek.

"You are what I desire," Harry lied. But it was worth it to see a small, reluctant smile on Hermione's face.

She stepped forward and looked up at him. Then she raised a hand to stroke his jaw.

"I needed you tonight, Harry. I needed you with me, comforting me, loving me." She placed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. "I feel empty... so cold..."

Harry stood immobile, unable to think of anything to say or to do. He felt something freeze inside him.

Hermione took a few steps back and undid the clasp to her night robes, which slipped down her smooth shoulders and fell in a heap at her feet.

Throughout the night, Harry's mind kept returning to a certain blond. It was amazing how just few hours ago he would have given anything to stop the time. But now, all he wanted was for the night to be over in the blink of an eye.

xx

"That was interesting," said Daphne, rolling on her side to face Draco, who was lying beside her with a sated smile on his face. She shifted the sheets to cover her naked body, watching Draco's chest rise up and down with each deep breath.

"You were quite enthusiastic tonight," she said, tracing his lower lip with her thumb, her fingers resting on his cheeks. Draco swiftly bit her thumb, making her hiss in pain. Then he leaned forward and kissed her already swollen lips.

"I felt generous," he said, shrugging. He relaxed on his back and looked at the dark green hangings of the bed.

_I should tell her,_ he thought. _Now._

Reading his pensive face, Daphne rolled over on top of him.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, looking into his icy gray eyes, tinged at the moment with glowing blue.

Draco hesitated for a moment then said, "Potter."

Daphne raised her eyebrows.

"Really? What about him?"

"I think I'm attracted to him," Draco said, putting his arms around her. "Very attracted."

Daphne smirked, pushing on her elbows to lean back and have a better look at him.

"Oh, I see. Do you want to have another go with him?" she asked teasingly.

"I already did," he replied, looking for any sign of resentment or jealousy. But what he saw instead was guileless interest and curiosity.

"When?" she said, suddenly breathless. "How was it?"

"Tonight," he sighed. "It was divine. I think you've turned me bisexual; I'm enjoying men."

"Man," she corrected, resting her chin on his chest. "Of course, you can always experiment to see if you are attracted to other men."

Even as Draco thought about the 'experimenting', he could feel his blood rushing to certain places.

"And you don't mind this at all?" he asked, arching his eyebrow.

"Not as long as I get to join in on the fun." She winked at him, before suddenly wearing a frown. "But you _are_ still interested in women, aren't you?"

Draco pulled her close and flipped their positions so that now he was on top.

"Woman," he said, before pushing her legs apart.

xx

It had been a long day. Harry, along with Ron and a couple other Aurors, had spent most of the day rooting out a faction of Death Eaters that had been holed up in a shack in Hogsmeade. One of them had grazed his arm with some curse he'd never heard of before, and scarred a patch of flesh with scratches.

He was back at the office, filling out some paperwork, when a very familiar eagle owl landed on the windowsill, a scroll of parchment clutched in its talons.

"Well, hello." A smile instantly crossed Harry's face; the stinging of his arm was forgotten. "What does Draco have to say to me today?" He untied the little green ribbon and unfurled the note.

_Harry--_

_Can you escape Hermione and come over tonight? I told Daphne about what we did last night and she's just dying to get in on it. _

_Plus, I want to see your face when she's taking care of you. I missed out on that the night we switched._

_...and I want to get inside again, if you catch my drift._

_Draco_

He sighed, disappointed. He'd been hoping for another night alone with Draco; he was thinking about coming clean with him, telling him how he felt... but it was obvious, wasn't it? It had to be. Draco had claimed him, Harry, as his own.

_Besides,_ Harry thought, playing devil's advocate, _Daphne was good, too. Think about both of them together..._

But an image of Draco and Daphne together-- without him-- crept into his mind, and he felt a stab of fierce jealousy. Pushing it aside, reasoning that he would have the time of his life with Daphne beneath him and Draco behind him, he scribbled a note back.

_Draco--_

_Be there as soon as I can. Hermione's got her book club at the library tonight, and she usually goes out for tea with a few of the girls afterwards, so I should be able to stay until 10 or so._

_Harry_

xx


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to our loyal few commenters! We love you.

xx

As Harry reached up to bang the large gargoyle knocker against the front door of Malfoy Manor, a shiver coursed through him that had nothing to do with the cold autumn air.

The door opened wide, and the sight of Draco in a comfortable kelly green sweater and well-fitting blue jeans greeted him. "Hey, Harry."

_You're sexy. Let me tackle you. Kick your wife out of the house so we can light candles and make crazy love in the middle of the livingroom. _"Hi." He shed his coat and hung it on the tree in the foyer.

"Daphne's out doing some, uh, last-minute shopping," Draco told him. "You want a drink while we wait?"

"Sure," Harry said, jamming his hands in his pockets in an effort to look casual. "What do you have?"

"Butterbeer, water, milk, and cherry limeade."

"I'll have some limeade."

"Sure thing." Draco disappeared into the kitchen, and Harry wandered into the dining room, pulling out one of the Malfoys' hand-carved cherrywood chairs to sit in. He picked at the plastic grapes that engulfed the crystal votive holders in the middle of the table.

Draco emerged from the kitchen then. "Here we are," he said, and set a glass of pink liquid in front of his friend. Harry noticed he'd chosen the same drink.

"Thanks. So what did Daphne have to go shopping for?"

Draco shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Y'know. Stuff."

"Alright then, keep your secrets."

He laughed. "So I was writing a new chapter today. You've given me loads of new material, y'know."

Unable to control himself, Harry beamed.

"Anyway, I was in a bit of a writer's block and I went to Flourish and Blotts to sift through the stacks and hopefully find something to inspire me again--"

_You could have visited my office..._

"--and I was in the Intimate Relationships section when I found a word that just really annoys me."

"Ferret?"

"Good try, but no."

"Gryffindor?"

"Oh, intensely, but that's not what I was thinking of."

"Then what?"

"Therapist."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Well isn't it just a paradox? A therapist is supposed to help you. But if you break the word into pieces, you get 'the rapist.' Which is definitely NOT a person who helps you."

He laughed. "Depends on who the aggressor is."

It was Draco's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I never thought of you as much of a masochist."

"I never thought of you as much of a linguist."

"I write books, remember?"

"Yeah. Heavily illustrated books."

"Ah, you've read them." He took a sip of his limeade. "And Hermione vehemently denied such a thing."

Harry shrugged. "And you believed her? Hermione, who's read every book in existence, even Lockhart's?"

He let out a chuckle. "Plus, you both want me. Of course you'd want to read about the sex I have."

Harry nearly spit out his juice. "You mean all of that..."

He looked pleased at Harry's shock. "Personal experience, mate."

"Merlin," he sighed, shaking his head. "You and Daphne sure get up to a lot."

Draco placed a hand over Harry's. "And you and me, too."

That familiar fire surged through Harry's veins. _God, that touch..._ Draco's skin felt so soft brushing his own. He cleared his throat. "I guess that chapter on acrobatic broom sex and Quidditch-style threesomes is a new one for you."

He laughed appreciatively. Just then, the front door opened and closed. "Daphne's home," Draco announced, getting to his feet. "Why don't we go see what she's brought for us?"

Harry scrambled to his feet and followed Draco into the foyer.

"Hi, boys." Daphne wore a long black coat and a patented Malfoy smirk. Harry saw black fishnets peeking out from between her tall black boots and the hem of her coat.

"Hi, yourself." Draco wrapped her into a kiss. "What new additions for the toybox have you brought?"

She smiled and held up two unmarked black bags. "Why don't we go upstairs and see?"

Draco gave a casual smile to Harry, as if this was a normal occurrence in every couple's house. Thunderstruck, Harry followed, distracted from Draco for a moment by his wish that Daphne would take her coat off and reveal what she was wearing to match those fishnets.

He got his wish when they entered the bedroom. She cast it off to reveal a short black skirt and a Victorian corset in green, black, and silver, a perfect contrast to her cascading red hair.

Draco was just as surprised as Harry. "That's new," he said, a bit breathlessly.

She grinned. "I've had it on special order for weeks," she told him. "They just owled me today. Perfect timing, isn't it? Thought I'd debut it tonight." She flashed a smile at Harry, who suddenly felt himself unable to stand and sank down onto the foot of the bed.

_How is it that I ended up here?_ Harry suddenly wondered. _This is crazy. The two biggest nymphomaniacs in all of the Wizarding World-- and the best, too-- and they want _me

As if to punctuate this thought, Daphne lowered herself onto the bed next to Harry. She regarded him with smoky eyes. "Do you want to unload our bags?"

Mesmerized, he nodded.

Daphne handed him the first bag; he pulled out a few sets of handcuffs, a collar and a leash, and two black satin blindfolds. From the other, taller bag, he drew out a silver-and-black leather whip and a riding crop.

He was very glad he was already sitting.

"I will bet," she said in a husky voice, "Hermione's never used any of this with you."

Unable to find words, Harry simply shook his head.

"So." Her face was lit up with mischief and desire. "If I were to do this..."

And before Harry knew what was happening to him, his hands were cuffed behind his back and a collar encircled his throat. His clothes had vanished. Daphne stood on the bed, crop in hand, her eyes glittering. But as Draco gazed down at Harry, comprehending the hunger in those shining eyes, he made a decision. Silently, he held his hand out to Daphne, who at once relinquished her role as dominatrix and with it, the riding crop.

Draco stripped to the skin and pulled a pair of black leather gloves from the cedar chest at the foot of the bed. Harry watched him intently as he slid them on, as he looked meaningfully at his bound lover.

_His,_ Harry thought, smiling inside. _I'm his, and he's proving it. Right in front of her._

But then he drew out the other pair of cuffs, restraining Daphne with a metallic _click_ and a quick "Incarcerous!" She tried to mask her excitement with a pout, but Draco only smiled and advanced on Harry. He slid a blindfold over his eyes.

"I took it easy on you last time," he growled softly as he climbed onto the bed, tracing the soft leather end of the switch up and down Harry's back. He shivered. "I can last for hours, and you're going to take everything I give you."

Taking a shaky breath, Harry nodded. He almost wasn't able to take what Draco gave him last time, and had to give Hermione excuses about why it hurt when he sat down the next day.

_Don't think about her,_ Harry chided himself. _Think about this. Listen to who's hovering at your ear._

He was resolved to stand the Slytherin's test, to prove he was capable of being an even better bedmate than the fiesty Daphne. But instead of feeling Draco glide into his ass, he felt leather-clad fingertips prying his jaw open and a warm, pulsing cock sliding into his mouth.

_Oh, Merlin._

Draco grinned, watching Daphne writhe in the chair she was tied to, straining to escape her bounds. He dropped his riding crop to the side and ran his hands up and down Harry's body.

Harry felt his throat tighten, and Draco let out a little moan. _God..._ He didn't know what it was, but something about the touch of cool leather on his hot skin-- he felt the blood rush to his nether regions, and suddenly became aware of how erect he was.

Slowly, leisurely almost, Draco slid in and out of Harry's mouth, careful to make sure that he could handle his entire length in his throat. Harry's gag reflex threatened to stop him more than once, but he wouldn't let it happen. Hungrily, he went for more, pushing his own limits, celebrating a small victory as his lips brushed Draco's pelvis.

"That," Draco panted, "deserves a reward." Wordlessly, he Summoned his wand from the bedside table and freed Daphne from the ropes that held her to the chair. Practiced, she knelt at the side of the bed, demurely looking up at her husband, awaiting his command.

"Underneath him," he instructed, his eyes falling closed as he became lost to Harry's constant rhythm.

Daphne obeyed at once, sliding between Harry's outstretched legs.

Draco seemed drunk on the taboo of the experience, on the thought that he was about to see his wife and his lover together. "Come on. Do to her what you did to me." He tore off his blindfold.

A tiny flock of butterflies awakened in Daphne's stomach as she tried to imagine what Harry had done to her husband. "Harry, please..." She squirmed, feeling the emptiness inside of her, wanting to be filled.

Without warning, Harry slammed into her, and her eyes flew open. "Oh, God." She licked her lips. "Again, Harry."

He kept going, and she became a fountain of screams, clutching at the bedsheets, the covers, Harry's thighs. She left marks with her fingernails, but he didn't mind the pain. He barely even noticed it, in fact; as Daphne's lithe body was sent into spasms beneath him, all he noticed was the labored breathing of Draco as he used Harry's mouth to bring him over the edge.

Harry swallowed it all, every last drop, and wouldn't let him go without cleaning up every square inch. _Nothing that delicious ought to go to waste._

For a moment, Harry thought it was over. He laid back on the pillow and closed his eyes in satisfaction; but he didn't yet know Draco that well, and he was far from finished. When Harry opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of husband and wife making out ravenously, Daphne stroking his member, then finally pressing her own mouth down on it. She looked up at Harry with bright eyes. "You left a little bit for me," she whispered with a smile.

He didn't smile back.

"Touch me," Draco hissed urgently, and Harry tried; but his hands were still cuffed and he realized Draco had meant the command for his wife. She ran her small hands over his flat stomach, over the muscular curves of his arms, down to the narrow, powerful hips that she adored so much. She labored away at the same time, getting him hard again, taking him down her throat. Harry watched enviously as she took his cock in easy, fluid motions.

"Kiss," he demanded, and Daphne obeyed, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips to his. Draco had her in a vise. And suddenly Harry couldn't take it anymore. He fought to grasp the length of chain on his cuffs and clicked the safety-release button. As Daphne went down to return to her position, Harry flung his arms possessively around Draco, pulling him in for a rough kiss.

He accepted it, letting their tongues dance together, then pulled Harry back by the hair. "Disobedient," he scoffed.

Harry replied with a Draco-like smirk. "What are you going to do about it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

_God, that look. That _look... _I hope he puts me on my stomach and..._

"Daphne," came the drawling command. "Do what you do best."

_No... why not you... Draco, you goddamn tease..._

She smiled, brought her scarlet lips down around Harry's cock, and began to devour it just as she had Draco's. Involuntarily, Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. _God..._

Closing his eyes, he pictured Draco's mischievous eyes, his curtain of perfect blonde hair, the way his shirts always fit him perfectly-- just tight enough that they seemed to beckon him. He supplanted the sight of Daphne's tiny hands on his thighs with memories of Draco's soft, strong ones holding him down. Her soft little moans got replaced by the nearly inaudible noises Draco made as he watched, touching himself.

"Yes," came Draco's urgent voice, "get him there..."

"No," Harry pleaded. "Not yet. Please." _Don't you want me?_

And then Draco understood. He grabbed a handful of Daphne's hair and pulled her off, taking her place. Harry's heart soared as Draco slid him down his throat.

Daphne climbed back up onto the bed, turned on by Draco's roughness and the scene unfolding in front of her. She was able to hold off for a few seconds, but soon edged between Draco's legs and began servicing him with her mouth.

"Draco... please..." Harry was pleading for release, his hands kneading the silk beneath him with urgency. "Please..."

_I'm going to have fun with this._ Draco smirked and came off.

"Dammit..."

"Daphne," came Draco's calm tone, "lay on your stomach."

She obliged, a wide smile crossing her face.

"Get inside of her, Harry."

He slid his glistening cock inside of her and gave an involuntary gasp. She was tight as a vise and dripping wet. For a second, he forgot about Draco and moved within her, staring down at her face as she turned over her shoulder to watch him. Her kohl-rimmed eyes sparked something within him. And he began to hammer away at her-- _God, she's almost as tight as Draco--_ and just as he was reminded of his blond Romeo, he felt him enter his backside.

Draco had cast off the leather gloves, and it was now his warm hands that drifted over Harry's skin, flicking gently at his nipples, tugging sharply at the tendrils of hair that were just long enough to pull. _No wonder she's so wet,_ Harry thought. But he couldn't put it into words. He just knew that the pain mixed with the pleasure was a delicious cocktail.

Biting her lip, biting the pillow, biting Harry's hand, Daphne was dangerously close to climax. "Fuck... Harry... yes..." Her eyes flickered.

"Not yet," Draco commanded from behind Harry, watching his wife's face. "Wait."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't, love... he's too good..."

At this, Harry smiled, and began to pound her harder. _Must be the Slytherin rubbing off on me._

"Harry!" she squealed, and clenched her teeth.

Draco, too, was amused by this. He began to move relentlessly inside of Harry, causing him to let out a low moan.

"Draco..."

"Harry..." Draco's hot breath ghosted across his back and he shivered.

Suddenly Harry became aware of how close he really was. "Oh, God... Draco... Daphne..."

Daphne licked her lips with anticipation. "You're going to fill me," she whispered rapturously, her eyes still squeezed shut, trying to hold off her orgasm.

That did it. "I'm going to... Daphne, here it comes..."

"You wait too," commanded Draco, just as Harry was about to let go.

"Why?" came Daphne's strangled protest. "I can't take it much longer..."

In response, Draco thrusted harder. Harry's eyes flew open and he slowed, overwhelmed by Draco's fervor.

"Don't you dare stop!" shrieked Daphne, clawing at his arms.

"God... Harry..." His fingernails dug into Harry's hips. "Yes..."

Daphne pounded her fists against the mattress. _"Harry..."_

Harry didn't know how much longer he could hold off-- two people were screaming his name at once, four hands scratched and drifted and pulled at his body-- and Daphne's death grip on his cock was only becoming tighter--

"Cum," came Draco's firm command, and Harry thought he'd never heard a more beautiful word in his life. He felt the warm sensation of Draco spilling inside him as Daphne arched her back and he released into her, in a whirlwind of sweat and shrieks and moans.

They collapsed onto the bed, Draco between Harry and Daphne.

"So," Draco said with a smirk, turning to Harry. "Have the Malfoys pleased you?"

"That's the understatement of the year," said Harry with a grin, and Draco smiled.

"Touche."

The joke ran right past Daphne. "You know, I never got to feel you both inside of me."

Draco laughed. "Next time, love," he promised, and draped an arm around her. She nestled comfortably into his embrace and let her eyes fall gently closed. Draco pushed a few strands of hair from her sticky forehead; she shivered in the cool breeze coming in from the open window, and he gently pulled a blanket over her form.

"Thanks, honey. I love you."

"I love you too."

Harry felt like a Dementor had just taken his soul.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: This chapter is all Sobiya. If you love it as much as I did, make sure to drop us a note and let her know :) 

xx

Harry was bent over on the plush chair trying to tie his shoelaces, ignoring the hums and giggles drifting from beyond the green bed hangings. There was a whisper; then silence. Harry stood up, looking around for his brown wristwatch, as Daphne emerged from the bed, swishing the hangings aside. Draco was leaning against the headboard, the blankets barely covering him. Daphne adjusted her silk gown and walked up to Harry. She stopped in front of him and glanced back at Draco, who was staring at Harry, something lurking behind those glittering eyes. Harry stared back.

Daphne turned back to Harry and pulled on his unbuttoned shirt, making Harry snap out of his trance.

"I really had fun tonight," she said, smiling shyly up at him. It was almost seductive. She ran a single finger over his chest down to his navel.

Yes, definitely seductive.

Harry looked down at her finger, dawdling close to his waistband. He placed his hand on her wandering one and intertwined their fingers.

"I had fun, too," he said, not meeting her eyes. Then he looked over at Draco, who was watching them through droopy eyes.

"Thanks for inviting me," said Harry, letting his eyes linger on him longer than necessary. Draco didn't miss the edge in Harry's voice. He sat up slowly.

Daphne let her hand drop to her side as Harry turned to pick up his wristwatch from the floor. Draco stood and put an arm around Daphne. The fact that he was the only member in the room naked didn't seem to bother him.

Watch firmly around his wrist, Harry turned to say goodbye. The sight of a nude Draco always affected his speaking abilities. And this time was no difference.

_You'd think I'd get used to it after being repeatedly fucked by him_, thought Harry.

Draco leaned in and whispered something to Daphne, who smiled mischievously and kissed him on the lips. Harry looked away.

_Right, time to leave._

"Well, see you later, I guess," said Harry, turning towards the door.

"Harry."

Harry froze. He felt Draco walk up behind him and wrap his arms around him. Harry closed his eyes, losing himself in his embrace.

"Daphne and I are going to a club tomorrow night," he said softly into his shoulder. "And I want you to join us."

_Us._ That minute word hit Harry like a Bludger in the guts.

Harry turned around to look straight into Draco's eyes. _What is going on here?_ he asked him silently. _It's supposed to be just you and me. Isn't that how you feel?_

Draco shifted on his feet, waiting for Harry's answer, unaware of his internal conflict.

Harry knew that going to the club would end up the same way. He didn't know if he could stand watching Draco going home with Daphne, instead of him. _And why shouldn't he go home with her? She's his wife, after all. And he _loves_ her…_

_What the hell am I doing?_ Harry frantically asked himself, looking around the huge chamber-like room. _I don't belong here._

Draco watched as Harry's face reflected a whirlpool of emotions. Harry bit his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," said Draco softly, stepping forward. "You alright?"

Draco cupped Harry's face and made him look up. Feeling Draco's soft, warm lips on his, Harry felt his heart redeemed. Nothing this good could ever be wrong. This is what he wanted. _This_ is_ where I belong._

Harry allowed himself a small smile as Draco looked back at him.

"So, will you come?" asked Draco, peering at Harry imploringly. "Please?"

How could he say no to that?

He slowly nodded.

Draco looked over his shoulder at his smirking wife. "Excellent."

xx

The dim floor of the club was vibrating with the fast-tracked music. Harry could feel his heart pounding against his ribs in sync with the thundering song, which he recognized to be a track by the Oompa Loompas, a local underground trip-hop band. There was no light except the one coming from the illuminated dance floor and the disco balls floating above the dancers. The club was packed. Many people were on the dance-floor, half naked, grinding and rutting against each other. Here and there, he saw people laughing and yelling, with bright-colored drinks in their hands. He stepped forward slowly, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark room and locate a familiar face.

He had told Hermione that he needed to work a late shift at the Auror Department and that she didn't need to wait for him. It was becoming only too easy to lie to Hermione now. The owl that he had received from Daphne in the morning had been brief. _Harry. Meet us in The Dancing Dragon, near Knockturn Alley, at 8:00pm sharp. See you soon, Daphne._ Having never been to a club before, Harry had spent two hours contemplating what to wear. In the end, he had settled for faded jeans and a well-fitting green T-shirt, a gift from Fred Weasley, which read _Want to ride my broomstick?_ He had left home under his cloak as to not arouse Hermione's suspicions. Harry checked his wristwatch; it was 8:13. Just as he was about to change his mind and go back home, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Glad you could join us," said Daphne, wearing dark red lipstick and a matching, skin-tight, backless dress that left nothing to the imagination. Her hair was loose, the dark curls standing out in contrast to her pale skin. Her breasts were covered with nothing but two triangular straps that ran from her waist up to her neck, tied in a knot. Harry's eyes trailed over her slightly flushed and damp skin and then reached her eyes, which were outlined with some sort of black powder. Harry didn't know much about make-up, but the effect was incredible. He was instantly drawn to her hazel eyes. He quickly cleared his head and looked around for Draco, but he couldn't see him. Daphne seemed to understand right away who he was seeking.

"He's in the back," she said, taking Harry's arm and leading him through the throngs of people; some were dancing and others were engaged in different acts. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the gloom, what Harry saw made his throat go dry.

Men on men.

He saw one man leaning against a far wall, his eyes closed and a blissful expression on his face. At a closer inspection, Harry discovered what was making him moan like that. Another man was kneeling in front of him, his face level with his crotch, swiftly moving back and forth. On huge leather couches, young men were sprawled in pairs, jerking, blowing, and groping each other. Their loud sighs and groans made Harry's skin hot and his pants tight. Inside another alcove, one man was pushed against the wall, while being slammed from behind by his grunting partner.

Harry averted his gaze and followed Daphne away from that area into a part of the club which was quieter and less crowded. There were round, metallic tables with matching chairs, four to each table. And there was a bar in the back, softly illuminated like the rest of the club.

"There he is," said Daphne, pointing to the far right corner where Draco was sitting, sipping his drink in a booth. Harry smiled and walked ahead of Daphne in his hurry to get to Draco. But his steps faltered when he saw that Draco wasn't sitting alone; he was apparently enjoying the company of a dark-haired man, who was sitting glued to Draco. Harry stopped a few feet away from them, processing the new development.

"Who's he?" Harry asked, scowling, not liking the way the guy kept touching his Draco.

_His_ Draco?

Daphne smiled teasingly.

"Oh, just a new friend Draco's made. Why?" She looked scandalously innocent. "You're not jealous, are you?"

Harry glared at her and didn't answer. Instead, he made his way to the booth where Draco was sitting. Draco looked up and smiled as Harry approached.

"Hello, Harry," he said, casually. "Have a seat."

_Where?_ Harry thought. _The one next to you is currently occupied by some scumbag._

Daphne sat opposite Draco and Harry slid in after her, coming face to face with Draco's companion. If Harry wasn't so ticked off at his presence at the table, he might have grudgingly admitted that he found him quite attractive. He had light blue eyes and dark brown hair, which was tied in a small ponytail. He was nicely built, and seemed slightly shorter than Draco. He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt made of some shiny fabric. And his left arm was definitely not resting in his own lap.

"Harry, this is Sebastian Rudewick," said Draco, introducing them. "Sebastian, this my friend I told you about."

_Not your friend_, thought Harry fiercely, as Sebastian nodded at him. _Your lover._

"Ah, so you're Harry," Sebastian drawled, looking him up and down. He had a strong, deep voice. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry."

Harry looked stonily back at him. "Likewise."

Draco seemed to sense the tension and said, "Uh, well, I'm going to go get another drink. You guys want anything?"

When both Daphne and Harry declined, Draco got out of the booth and Sebastian followed him to the bar, unnerved by Harry's glare. Harry barely registered how amazing Draco looked in his black leather pants and a dark green silk shirt, so intent was he on casting a wandless jinx at Sebastian.

"You're scaring him," said Daphne, half amused and half exasperated. "Be nice."

"Why is Draco hanging out with him?" Harry fired at her. "Who the hell is he? Where did he come from?"

_Why is he suddenly in our lives?_

Daphne sighed.

"We saw him at the bar, he and Draco started talking, and I think Draco finds him quite… interesting."

Harry didn't speak but stared moodily at the gleaming polished brown surface of the table. _Interesting._ Did Draco find Harry _interesting_ as well? Was he just another Sebastian to Draco?

He wanted to believe that Draco felt the same way for Harry. He wanted to believe that this Sebastian was exactly what Daphne told him he was: just an interesting friend. Competing with Daphne was hard enough, he didn't want another challenger.

Daphne scooted closer to Harry, placed her hand on his thigh, and started rubbing it tantalizingly close to his crotch. Harry looked up at her and saw that her eyes were heavy with desire. Her hand traveled up, under his T-shirt and over his stomach as she leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"Don't think about them." She caressed his chest with her hand. "Think about what you have right now," she pinched his nipple, "and what you can do with it."

Harry shivered as he felt the cold metal of her rings touch his warm skin. Daphne smiled and licked the shell of his ear. Harry sat frozen and hoped that Draco would come back with those drinks. Maybe watching his wife and lover in this position would get him to ditch that Sebastard and join them.

But Draco didn't come.

Harry felt trapped as Daphne straddled him, her breasts in his face. She suddenly plunged her fingers in his hair and pulled his head back roughly, and she descended her lips on his to devour him. Harry waited four seconds, then pushed her off him and stood up, his chest heaving, his eyes wide.

"I-- I can't do this." He shook his head, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just… I can't."

Daphne stared in wonder as Harry quickly walked away.

He needed to get away, had to clear his head. He heart was thudding wildly in his chest. He felt suffocated. It all felt wrong. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

Before Harry knew where he was going, he found himself in a seemingly vacant restroom. The floor resembled a chessboard. The tiles were checkered black and white. He strode over quickly to one of the basins and opened the tap. He threw his glasses off and splashed a good amount of cold water on his face. It felt refreshing and seemed to calm his nerves.

Then he heard the noises. Soft grunting sounds were coming from inside one of the blue stalls. Harry slowly put on his glasses and looked at the bottom of the stall through the mirror in front of him. He saw a familiar pair of black shoes.

"Yes…"

The deep voice sounded too familiar. Harry slowly turned around. The door to the stall was ajar.

"Yeah… that's it… oohhh…"

Harry stepped forward in a haze. The reality refused to enter his brain, he knew it wasn't him, it couldn't be… _He wouldn't_…

He reached the door and slowly pushed it forward.

Draco was seated on the toilet seat, his eyes screwed shut, his leather pants crumpled above his shoes. His hands were grasping Sebastian's hips, who had shed all his clothes and was sitting facing away from the door, so Harry could only see his muscular back. But what he could see was Draco's glistening cock poking in and out of Sebastian's ass as he rapidly moved up and down.

_No…_

Harry felt his heart turn to ice and shatter into a thousand pieces. He stood paralyzed, watching the hideous scene unfold before him. Unable to move or tear his eyes away, he stared at Draco's shut eyes.

_Open your eyes. Look at me._

He did. Draco's eyes widened in surprise for a second, then he smirked and closed his eyes again, continuing to hurriedly bounce Sebastian in his lap. Sebastian gave a howl of pleasure, throwing his head back.

Harry seemed to break out of his trance as Draco yelled.

"For fuck's sake, Potter. Get in or get out!"

Harry ran from the restrooms. He ran, bumping and shoving into people, ran until he was out of the club, until he passed a dark alley, until his legs carried him to a brick wall. He finally stopped to slump against the wall and slid down to sit in the dark, deserted alleyway.

_Oh, Draco._

Harry wrapped his arms around his knees and didn't even bother fighting back the tears.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Reviews... equal motivation for us... equals faster updates :)

This is the prelude to what we've all been waiting for.

xx

Betrayal.

The word ate at Harry's heart like acid. He couldn't get the image out of his head: Sebastian's yells, Draco's urgency as he used the bars on the sides of the restroom for leverage, the way he looked at Harry like he was an invader.

_What's happened to us, Draco?_

A couple came around the corner, two women in vinyl minidresses, oblivious to the world around them. The blonde one shoved her girlfriend against the wall and slipped her hand under her dress.

"Oi!" Harry yelled. "This alley is occupied."

The blonde glared at him, not moving her hand. "Sod off." And she went back to her girlfriend.

Harry sighed and trudged out of the alley. He looked around; every place was either closed or too noisy.

_I'll go home,_ he thought with a sigh. _Hermione won't be there yet. I'll just go to sleep before she gets back._

xx

The house was dark when Harry approached the front step. He inserted his key into the lock and forlornly pushed open the door.

Sweet solitude, he thought with a sigh, letting the darkness envelop him. He didn't bother turning on the lights, just pulled his shoes and socks off and felt his way up the carpeted stairs.

But when he entered the bedroom, his heart dropped.

Candles had overtaken the room. A soft glow bounced off the walls, illuminating the vases of roses on the nightstands. The bed was strewn with flower petals, and there in the center of it all was Hermione, flushed and anxious, dressed in a red satin babydoll.

"You're home," she breathed.

He promptly began to invent wild excuses in his mind, but she didn't even ask where he'd been.

"What's all this for?" he managed.

She smiled. "We just finished an amazing novel called The Notebook," she explained, "and I-- I just had to."

Crawling into bed next to her, he pulled the covers around them both. "What was it about?"

"Love," she sighed, "love conquering everything. This old man comes to a nursing home every day and reads to this old woman from a notebook. It turns out that they're married and she's got dementia, and he keeps reading the story of their love in hopes that she'll come back to him... and she does, briefly, and at the end, she asks if he believes their love can take them away together... and they fall asleep in the same bed and die during the night." She sniffled.

Harry held her, partly to comfort her, but partly to hide his own tears.

All he could think of was Draco.

"Make love to me, Harry," she murmured into his shoulder, laying kisses on his neck.

He screwed his eyes shut and silently prayed for strength, then pulled away and kissed her.

It was nothing like kissing Draco. Kissing him was full of urgency, full of long-repressed desire being set free, full of bliss and rapture. Kissing Hermione wasn't any of these things; it was a job, a responsibility, the chore of a responsible husband. He felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Her hands ran hungrily up and down his body, tugging at his shirt; she made no reference to what he was wearing, and he flung it to the floor before she could notice.

"Harry..." Her tongue trailed across his collarbone, and he felt no shiver down his spine, no urge to devour her lips. She brought her hand down, and Harry realized he was completely limp.

"Let me help you with that," Hermione said mischievously, and enveloped him in her mouth.

His eyes fluttered. "Oh, God." But it still felt like an invasion. "Hermione," he panted, "pull your hair back."

Without asking why, she did so, and went straight back to work.

Harry closed his eyes and imagined a white-blond head bobbing furiously up and down. Within seconds, he was rock-hard.

"Come here," he growled. She settled on her back, reaching to pull her husband close, but he had other ideas. Before she knew what was happening, she was flat on her stomach and Harry was rocketing into her.

"Squeeze," he begged, "c'mon... please..."

Holding her breath, Hermione obeyed.

Again, Harry shut his eyes, imagining Draco spread out on his bed, biting his lip as Harry drilled into him. _God, Draco... you're so tight..._

"Harry," Hermione moaned, and he stopped immediately.

_Shh,_ he thought wildly, _don't make noise, I can't pretend if you're making noise..._

"Yes... oh, Harry... faster..."

"I can't," he spat, and all of a sudden he was in tears.

Immediately, Hermione gathered him into her arms. "Harry, what's wrong?" She smoothed his messy hair from his forehead, and her fingertips grazed his scar. That only made him cry harder. "Harry, please. What's the matter?"

Harry shook his head, furious at himself for allowing his emotions to show so blatantly. "Nothing."

"Obviously there's something."

"No."

"Harry." Her voice was gentle, coaxing.

Inside, his stomach churned. The walls of his skull pulsed with intense pressure. "Hermione..."

"Tell me, Harry."

He sighed, gazing up into her concerned eyes. "It's not..." He paused, biting his lip. "It's not easy."

She took his hand. "What isn't?"

"It's nothing you've done, Hermione-- it's not that you--" He sighed, unable to think of a tactful way to tell her.

Hermione sighed. "It's Draco, isn't it?"

He was completely taken aback. "How did you--"

A rueful smile crossed her face. "You didn't want my long hair touching your legs. You flipped me on my stomach."

"I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"It's okay," Hermione began, "if you want to-- if you want to pretend I'm him sometimes. Just not on nights like this. I wanted to make love, Harry."

"You don't understand," Harry said.

Puzzled, she raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

He sighed. _How exactly does one tell one's wife that one is in love with another man? _"It's not... it's not just physical," he said lamely, quite sure he was blushing from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.

"What..." And then it dawned on her. "Oh, God." Instantly, she covered herself with the comforter. "You can't be serious."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean for it to happen, it just... did."

"How? You hated him! You bloody hated him for years!"

"You were the one who told me to make peace with him," he retorted, "after you made friends with his wife..."

"Make peace," she spat, "not fall in love with him!"

"It's fine," Harry said sullenly. "He doesn't feel a damn thing for me anyway. I'm stupid, and I'll get over it, and we'll be okay." Even as the words escaped his mouth, he knew they weren't true. There was no way he could ever get over Draco. The Slytherin prince had made his mark, and there was no erasing it.

Hermione sat with her eyes closed, trying to absorb everything. "I don't want to think about this now," she decided. "I can't. I need to sleep."

Harry nodded. With a wave of his wand, he extinguished all the candles.

His hand found her shoulder in the darkness. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

A pause. "I know."

xx

Dinner the next night was a quiet affair at the Malfoy Manor. Daphne kept casting furtive glances in Draco's directions across the table as he chewed on his food. There was no sound except for the clinking of the forks and spoons against the plates.

Draco had been very quiet ever since last night when Harry had walked out of the club. He couldn't shake the image of Harry standing outside the stall, looking betrayed and defeated. He couldn't-- _wouldn't_-- believe that he had called him 'Potter.' What had propelled him to do that?

What had started out as a flirty conversation with Sebastian had led to Harry walking out of the club. _And out of my life_, Draco couldn't help adding. He didn't like entertaining that thought. No, it's not such a big deal. Harry might be a little upset but Draco will owl him and ask him to come over, have a thorough talk with him and everything will be alright again. Right?

Daphne watched him for a while before picking up a napkin and dabbing her mouth. Then she cleared her throat.

Draco didn't look up.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, now fully peering at him. "You've been quiet all day."

He put his fork down and took a sip of his wine. When he sighed and looked up, Daphne was frowning at him.

"I think I fucked it up," he said, swirling the wine glass, watching as the liquid formed a little whirlpool.

"Are you talking about Sebastian?" she asked mischievously. When Draco didn't respond, she said seriously, "Sorry. Go on."

"I'm talking about Harry," he said quietly, a hint of melancholy in his drawling voice. "I mean, he's a pretty sensitive bloke... seeing me in that bathroom stall with Sebastian must have really thrown him."

She let her fork fall to her plate. "Draco Abraxas Malfoy! _That's_ why he left?"

Shamefacedly, he nodded.

"I don't believe you-- we were all supposed to-- _together--_ three guys, that's what you promised me--"

He blushed. "You know how impatient I can be, love."

Despite herself, she smiled a tiny bit. "Yes, and generally that's one of your most endearing qualities, but you fucked up the perfect foursome for me _and_ you completely betrayed Harry. He's our first, you know."

The words hit him like an anvil. For a split second, he put himself in Harry's shoes, imagining how he would have felt if he'd have walked in on Harry and Sebastian. He didn't like the empty, deceived feeling that gnawed at his stomach.

_What a git you are, Malfoy_, he chided himself, and brought his gaze back up to meet his wife's. "Sorry, angel. I'll owl Harry and apologize, alright, and then see if I can't convince him to come back and join us another night."

"He won't want Sebastian within a twelve-mile radius," Daphne pointed out.

"There are plenty of hot men at the Dragon," Draco said, spearing a piece of fish with his fork. "You, my little minx, will just have to seduce a better one."

She grinned.

"Or if none are acceptable to you, maybe we could brew some Polyjuice and transform someone into another Harry for you." It was meant to be a joke, but the image of two black-haired, green-eyed Seekers standing identically nude crept into his mind, and he felt his pants tighten.

And then they were angry at him, both of them, the jade eyes narrowing like a vise, he could have sworn the lightning-bolt glowed orange--

Then he remembered the scar, how Harry melted under his touch, how Draco became lost to the gentle fluttering of those long, dark eyelashes--

"I'm going to go write him," he said abruptly, pushing back his chair and knocking it over in his hurry.

"Alright," said Daphne.

"Alright." He righted the chair, pulled his sweater down in an attempt to hide his erection, and marched out of the room.

The moonlight shone in through the windows of Draco's study and he sat at the grand old rolltop desk that had belonged to his father for many years. Pulling a fresh sheet of parchment out, he dipped his favorite quill in the best ink and began--

_Harry,_

_I'm sorry._

Immediately, he scratched it out. 'I'm sorry' didn't even begin to cover it.

_Harry,_

_I was a complete arse the other night and I know it. I should never have taken Sebastian in the bathroom-- you're my first, and I was wrong. I was stupid-- you know how eager I can be sometimes._

_I just wanted to apologize. I don't deserve to have you back with me, but honestly your absence is leaving a hole, and it's only been a day. _

_I can't stand to think you hate me, and I hope that's not the case. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow to have a talk about all this? We'll set some ground rules so that things like this don't happen again._

_Draco_

He re-read the letter and realized he'd left out any mention of Daphne wanting them all to get back together.

_Baby steps,_ he thought, and sent it off with his owl.

Within ten minutes, he had his reply.

_Draco,_

_Of course I don't hate you. But you're right, talking would be a good idea._

_Meet me at my house, eleven o'clock tomorrow morning._

_Harry_

A grin broke out on Draco's face. He was so happy he wanted to kiss something; the nearest thing was the letter, so he brought it up to his lips and gave it a big smack right on the letters.

Odd-- it smelled like Harry's cologne, pine needles and fresh water and musk. Before he could get too drunk on the scent, he folded it up and put it carefully in the top drawer of his desk.

_See you tomorrow, love._

He stopped short in the doorway.

_Love?_


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: lots of love! We hope you enjoy this one!

xx

Daphne strolled leisurely down Diagon Alley, delighting in the stares of the men who passed her. She wore a form-fitting black turtleneck and dark jeans over tall black boots.

"Hey, sexy," said a warm voice from behind her, and she turned to roll her eyes.

At seeing who it was, a smile lit her face. "Blaise Zabini."

He laughed. "How are you? It's been awhile."

"Draco and I have been pretty busy."

"Researching for the new book, no doubt?" A grin played on his lips.

She blushed. "You could say that."

Tossing his head back, he laughed. "Oh, I know what you've been getting up to. He owled me after your little threesome with the Gryffindor."

"Oh, bloody hell." She snorted. "He told you?"

"You should know by now we share all of our interesting sex stories," he said matter-of-factly.

"He did say something about you and Ginny Weasley..."

It was Blaise's turn to blush.

"I have to admit, Blaise, I didn't think you approved of inter-house... relations..."

"Oh, it was just a night. I was dead curious. You wouldn't guess it, but she's been around the block a few times. Expert at what she does, the little tart."

Daphne felt an urge swell inside of her to prove that she was better than Ginny, but blew it off as her competitive nature. "A connoisseur of the finest, you are."

"Precisely. Why do you think I'm such good friends with you?"

She smiled.

"So. Besides finding new uses for the Quidditch pitch, how is Draco?"

"A little off," she found herself answering honestly.

"Off?"

"Yeah. I don't know what's wrong-- or if anything's even wrong. He just seems sort of preoccupied."

"Well, you know how he gets when he's got a deadline. I mean, his new book is scheduled to come out in just three months."

Daphne nodded. "He does only have two-thirds of it finished. Probably under lots of pressure."

"Probably," he said reassuringly. "Hey, do you want to stop off for a Butterbeer or something?"

"I'd like that. I've been on my feet all day."

"What'd you buy?"

Unblushingly, she pulled out another corset, this one in maroon and gold.

"Aha," Blaise said knowingly. "In for a fun night, are we?"

"Oh, I hope so," she said, pushing open the door of the Charm Spot Tavern.

xx

Harry paced his livingroom, trying to decide whether to run right into Draco's arms or blow up in his face. Draco stood, silent, patient, waiting for Harry to begin the conversation.

"Tell me why," Harry finally said.

Draco shrugged. "It's a stupid reason."

"Tell me why."

He blushed. "I was horny."

"That's no excuse."

"I know it's not." Now that he saw the pain etched into Harry's troubled face, Draco's regret was multiplied infinitely. _How could I have done this to him?_ "I wish I could make you understand how sorry I am."

Harry lifted his eyes and looked straight at Draco's face. His mouth was set in a straight line, his grey-blue eyes glowing with sincerity and sorrow. Draco wasn't lying, he was sure of that.

"Do you forgive me?" Draco asked tentatively.

With a heavy sigh, Harry nodded. "Yes."

One word. One word and Draco felt as though he'd been released from a dirty prison cell. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I'll never let you down again."

Anger still plucked at Harry's heartstrings. "I'm never going to be able to get that image out of my head, you know," he remarked disgustedly.

"Let me see if I can't make it go away." Almost without volition, Draco gently took Harry into his arms and softly pressed his lips against his. There was that scent-- forest, the banks of some woodland stream-- he buried his face in the delicate curve of Harry's neck as if it was oxygen. "Harry," he murmured softly, "Oh, Harry..." The aroma was intoxicating. He thought he could get lost forever in the earthiness of it, the raw fresh sensation that cooled and refreshed the air he breathed. "Harry... I love you..."

Harry pulled back with a jerk. "What did you just say?" He had to hear it again, had to make sure he hadn't been dreaming.

Wildly, Draco thought to invent something, _it was a mistake, I was thinking of Daphne, I didn't say anything_-- but he knew those lies didn't hold a candle to the truth. He inhaled sharply.

"I said that I love you." His voice was clear, unwavering. He was surprised to find that he wasn't shaking with nervousness.

"If you're-- if you're just saying things," Harry warned, his voice breaking, "if you're just saying this to get me back in bed, I swear, I'll--"

Draco caught him in his arms again, and words formed on his lips that he never knew he was capable of speaking. There was no turning back now-- every feeling he had suppressed was breaking through the dam. The floodgates were open. He couldn't pretend anymore. "Harry. Listen to me." He watched the glow of hope that shone behind Harry's eyes. "Using you is the last thing on my mind. You've been hurt so much in this life-- you've been betrayed, you never knew who to trust-- you've lost so many who were close to you."

Tears prickled at Harry's eyes.

"I'm going to be the opposite of everything you've known, Harry. Where you've been hurt I'm going to heal you. When you're betrayed, I'll stay faithful. And if you'll have me-- I won't let you lose me."

Harry's heart was pounding in his chest. Or had it stopped completely? He had no idea anymore. The only thing that existed were the two strong arms that anchored him to this world.

"And-- and you'll be with me?"

He brought his lips down to lay a tender kiss on Harry's scar. "Always."

Harry felt his body relax into nothingness. "Oh, Draco..."

Draco pulled him in for a kiss, and Harry thought he would stop breathing from the urgency, the passion, the strands of cornsilk hair that brushed against his face.

"I want--" Harry began.

"I know," Draco whispered, and as if they were gliding on clouds, they found their way to the bedroom Harry shared with Hermione.

Harry took a moment to turn their wedding picture toward the wall, then held his hand out to Draco. "Come on."

They came slowly to each other, both timid as virgins. Harry made the first move, pushing Draco's shirt from his torso and dropping kisses on his bare shoulders. Deliberately, he trailed little kisses up the side of his throat as Draco shook the green sweater to the floor. He brought his tapering fingers up to Harry's neck and pulled him close. Harry traced his fingertips along Draco's spine, feeling him shiver under his touch as he stroked the roof of Draco's mouth with his tongue.

Harry knew he wasn't going to make it through the night. Not with the way his heart was behaving, dancing erratically to the vibrations that coursed through his veins. To catch his breath, he seized Draco's shoulders and pulled away, panting heavily.

"Aren't you--" Draco's eyebrow arched.

Out came Harry's wand, and with a flick of his wrist, the lights were dimmed. "One step ahead of you."

With a roll of his eyes and a mischievous grin, Draco sauntered back up to Harry and thumbed one of his erect nipples. "You're too cute," he teased with a murmur in his lover's ear, making Harry frown petulantly. Draco laughed to himself and raised his eyes to meet Harry's.

_God, that unforgiving green. It's a cruel trick, giving a Gryffindor eyes like that..._

He leaned closer to stare into them, two miasmas of beautiful mystery, something daring and daunting about them. He yearned to get lost in them, spend days with his fingers tangled in Harry's, staring into those globes of emerald while the world around them disappeared--

And his lips, slightly pursed, slightly pouting; the color of the roses in the back gardens of Malfoy Manor. They might have been sculpted from the petals--

Unnerved under the sudden scrutiny, Harry licked his lips. Draco pounced and caught Harry's bottom lip in his teeth, then traced the outline of the lips with his tongue. Harry returned the wet kiss with fiery enthusiasm.

"You're beautiful," Draco breathed, breaking away, and gazed at his form. Gently, he caressed Harry's chest, getting lost in the quiet rhythm of his heart, the slow rising and falling of each breath. His glowing skin felt warm against Draco's icy hands, and he drank in the heat, journeying to his broad shoulders, back to his chest, then across his chiseled abdomen and down his hip. It was as though Draco was discovering and exploring his body for the first time. He wanted to memorize all the details; every single curve, every surprising dip, and every secret scar.

"And you're fascinating," he breathed, his eyes glued to Harry's skin.

Harry shook his head lightly, half-amused and half-exasperated by Draco's odd behavior.

"Draco…"

He was quickly cut off as Draco grabbed his arms with both hands suddenly.

"Harry."

The urgency in Draco's voice, the intensity in his eyes, was enough to make Harry shiver.

"Harry, I want you," he said, his breath coming out in a harsh wind.

"I-- I want you, too," said Harry, nodding, his pulse thumping in his wrists. Merlin, did he ever.

Draco shook his head. "Not like before. I want-- I want you to--" His hands wandered the terrain of Harry's body, passionately, lovingly. "This, Harry. I want your touch. I want--" Draco trailed off, looking down. Harry realized that he wanted to ask for something he had never asked for before. Something he wasn't sure he _should_ ask for. Harry cupped Draco's chin in his palm and looked into his downcast eyes.

"You can ask for anything, Draco," he assured him with a quiet resolve. "And I will give it to you in a heartbeat." A pause. "Go on. Tell me what you want."

Draco slowly lifted his eyes and looked at Harry.

"I want to feel you inside me," he said, his voice shaking. "I-- I want you to make love to me, Harry." His voice was barely above a whisper.

xx

...sorry for the cliffhanger... but the next chapter will be out soon and we promise it will be worth it. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Harry's eyes watered. He'd been dying to hold him, press their bodies together, seal their lips like a vacuum; and Draco was yearning for the same thing. With a sudden surge of emotion, he ran his fingers through the straw-blond hair and kissed him full on the mouth. The force of the kiss propelled Draco backwards onto the bed; Harry followed, never letting go of the kiss. _Don't worry, Draco. I'll give you all the love you could ever wish for._ He smiled, pressing harder on Draco's lips. _I have an abundant supply of it._

Covering Draco like a blanket, Harry threw off his glasses and kissed his way down Draco's neck, leaving a wet trail behind. He ran his hands down Draco's arms, making him shiver, until he reached his palms and entwined their fingers.

"Harry," Draco whispered, nuzzling into his mess of hair.

If he let him become any more affectionate, Harry knew he'd break down and fall into the shadow of Draco's body, drifting off to sleep under his protective arm. So he curled his fingers into Draco's and pinned them above his head.

He felt the gasp beneath him. Satisfied, he moved to the hollow where Draco's neck connected to his shoulder and licked it with the tip of his tongue. Draco arched his neck to give more access to Harry's seeking lips, and let his eyes drift closed as Harry moved up to run his tongue over the shell of the ear. Gently, he bit down on the lobe and let his warm breath ghost across the moist flesh.

Draco's voice was weak. "Harry... please..."

Harry pressed his body hard against Draco's and felt the firmness pushing into his pelvis. He stilled and gazed down at Draco, at his eyes, burning with desire; his face, flushed and fervent. He sat up, relaxing back on his haunches.

"Let's get you out of those pants, shall we?" he said, smiling dangerously, sending a thrill through Draco's heart.

Harry worked at the button on Draco's pants and was amazed-- and glad-- to notice that his hands weren't trembling. He slid the zipper down, almost teasingly, and slid boxers and pants off in one nimble movement as Draco lifted his hips eagerly to assist him. As Harry absorbed the beautiful sight before him, Draco smiled up at him, watching through sparkling eyes. _God,_ he thought, _finally--_

_Finally,_ echoed Harry's thoughts, as he let Draco's eager hands strip him of his blue sweatshirt. He felt the warm air creating a cocoon around his exposed torso, noticed that Draco's chest and neck were glistening in the candlelight, still moist from his kisses. His fingers ached to reach out and grasp Draco's swollen penis, which rested on his stomach, nestled over the golden curls. Suddenly his throat went dry; he became overwhelmed with an urge to take the prize before him in his thirsty mouth. His own cock was fighting to get out of its prison-- almost without volition, his hands unbuttoned his own jeans, watching Draco's lips part with anticipation.

Quickly, Harry's pants were in a knot next to Draco's on the floor, and Harry knelt naked in front of Draco.

"Come here," Draco said breathlessly, unable to tear his gaze from Harry's dark penis, which was dangling tantalizingly in front of him. He offered his arms and Harry fell into them, pressing his lips to Draco's. Draco wound his arms tightly around Harry and pulled him closer. His hands sifted through the silky blond locks and he buried his face in Draco's neck, sucking on the pale skin until it turned an angry pink.

"Oh, yes... Harry..." Draco moaned and arched up against Harry, crushing their groins together. They began to rock against each other and Harry felt a rush building inside of him.

_No, not yet, _he thought wildly, pulling away.

"Harry," whined Draco, reaching out for him, "please..."

"Shh." Harry brushed a strand of hair from his face. "I want to give you what you asked for."

"You," Draco said huskily. "I want you to take me. Now." He sat up, and Harry gathered up his hand, kissing his knuckles.

Harry smiled inwardly at his lover's impatience. "We have hours. I'm going to make this special for you." Without waiting for a response, he brushed his lips back against Draco's and cradled him, making him lay back onto the bed. They fell into another kiss, taking their time, Draco channeling every ounce of pent-up energy into the force of his lips, the fierceness of his gaze. Harry's eyes had been closed; he lifted them to watch Draco's face, but with one look at those dark silver eyes he almost lost control.

Draco felt the heat radiating from Harry's body, and a sense of comfort and contentment fell over him. Harry bent into the curve of his neck and Draco trembled as the black hair brushed against his skin.

"I'm going to show you every ounce of what I feel for you tonight," he whispered, then bit softly down on his shoulder. "And then I'm going to turn your world upside down."

Normally Draco's pride would have taken over, would have insisted on proving his skill, but here he was content to have Harry bring him to the abyss of ecstasy. He watched with bated breath as Harry slid to the end of the bed and lifted Draco's foot into the air. Eyes trained on his pale face, Harry enveloped the big toe in his mouth, causing Draco to inhale sharply. As Draco's eyes fluttered, Harry released the toe and laid a kiss on the pad of the foot; the ankle; the side of the calf.

_Sweet Merlin, what is this..._ Draco closed his eyes, focusing on the tingling sensations that Harry was creating on the back of his knee. "Ohh..."

Leisurely, Harry's mouth traveled up to the inside of the thigh, running the tongue over the taut flesh and scant hair. Draco reflexively spread his legs as Harry's mouth came to the juncture between his thighs, teasingly avoiding the most sensitive areas. _Harry, if you don't touch me, I'm going to die..._ He bit his lip and gripped the bedsheets.

As if he could read Draco's mind, Harry drew his hand up and wrapped his fingers around his balls, holding them in his hand like spheres of hand-blown glass, then moved up with aching slowness to stroke the neglected penis. Draco arched into his touch, demanding more attention; Harry obeyed and licked the length of his penis. Draco's eyes flew open and a hand shot out to grab Harry by the hair, pulling him forward down onto his cock. Eagerly, Harry took the cue and swallowed him whole.

"Ohh!" yelled Draco, falling back on the pillow. "Yes!"

The warmth and moisture of Harry's mouth was sure to drive Draco over the edge. Harry's lips brushed his pelvis, and Draco thought he'd faint from the intensity. He bit his lower lip, wanting to stop Harry but, at the same time, not wanting Harry to stop.

Mercifully, Harry gave one last lick to the cock and pulled away, moving to tease each of the nipples in turn. Firmly, he held Draco's hips and made him flip over onto his stomach. Draco closed his eyes and felt Harry lay down on top of him, licking his shoulder blades, trailing kisses down his spine while his cock brushed against Draco's ass.

"Lube," breathed Draco urgently, looking over his shoulder at Harry.

Harry, however, smiled and shook his head. Draco's eyes widened.

"You don't intend on proceeding _without_ lubing me, are you?" he asked, his voice full of mock doubt. "I mean, I thought when you said 'tenderness'…"

Harry laughed and kissed his cheek. He turned him over again so that they were facing each other.

"I want to do it like this," he said, settling himself down between Draco's legs. "So I can see your gorgeous face and kiss those delicious lips."

Draco grinned, feigning relief, and reached for his wand to conjure a vial of lube.

Harry poured a small amount into his palm and let Draco watch as he coated himself. Then, with warm, wet fingers, he slid down the center of Draco's ass, making him clench in anticipation.

"Relax," urged Harry with a whisper. "You know it's harder if you're tense."

Draco let his muscles go and Harry wiped his fingers on a towel.

Slowly, Harry eased into him. For a moment their eyes locked, frost on fire, ice and flame, and Harry thought he'd never seen eyes so blue before.

As if he knew exactly what Harry was thinking, Draco smiled gently. "There's no cold shell when I'm with you," he said quietly. "You've stripped it from me. I can't pretend with you."

"I thought I'd have to work for years to get to your core," replied Harry.

"And you would have put up with me that long?"

"For a lifetime," Harry murmured, bending over him to press their chests together, "and I still intend to."

Draco nuzzled into his neck. "Harry..." He sighed. "How the hell did this happen? We hated each other."

"You know what they say," Harry said, moving slowly within him. "There's a fine line between love and hate."

His eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head. "God," he breathed, "I'm glad we crossed it."

Harry chuckled.

"Kiss me," Draco said breathlessly, and it was no less than a demand. Harry's lips fastened to Draco's like they belonged there, like two sets of magnets that couldn't be pulled apart. And all of a sudden they were both unstoppable, lost in a tangle of legs and fingers and tongues, Harry's hot breath on Draco's neck, his fingers gripping Draco's pale shoulders as he slid in and out of him.

"God, Harry... don't stop..." _Fuck, he's amazing. _"You're amazing," he declared fervently, rocketing forward to let his teeth graze the skin on his neck. Harry drew in a sharp breath and propelled deeper inside of him, his hair falling over his eyes, a pink hue already beginning to tinge his chest.

Draco's eyes widened. "You're almost--"

Harry grinned. "You're tight, love. But don't worry. I'm not going to be _that_ selfish." And he plunged deep into the recesses of Draco's canal, making his eyes, now a brilliant ocean blue, fly wide open.

His lip caught between his teeth as Harry continued to thrust, urgently but lovingly. He grasped for Harry's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. "Don't tease me."

"You're high-maintenance," Harry said with an impish smile, and Draco shrugged innocently.

"I always get what I want."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "You have perfect hair."

"Fuck me."

And Harry rocketed into him as hard as he could, his eyes flashing, moving at a breakneck pace.

Barely aware of what he was doing, Draco dug his fingernails into Harry's back. Hungry to touch every inch possible, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco's iron-hard cock and began to pump. The blue eyes rolled back, sparkling under fluttering eyelids, and suddenly all the pressure was too much for him.

"Harry... Harry, I'm going to come, I'm going to..."

"Me too, love..." He began to move even faster. "Oh, God... here it is... Draco..." _Draco,_ he thought for a split second, _not Malfoy._

"I love you," breathed Draco, lost to the surrealism of everything, completely overtaken by the moment. A jolt of pleasure shocked him, and he arched into Harry's body, relishing the flood of warmth his skin created.

Harry sighed with pleasure, which sounded more like a gasp in his present state. "I love you too." And he came in a glorious explosion.

"Now me," Draco panted, "please..."

Harry, now that he could fully concentrate on Draco's erection, replaced his hand with his mouth. Draco let out a strangled sound, an expression of bliss sculpted on his pointed features, and came almost immediately into Harry's waiting mouth. He swallowed it all, making sure to get every last drop, then curled up next to his lover.

_"God,_ I love you," he said, eyes closed contentedly. His head rested on Draco's chest; his fingers played lazily with his chest hair.

"I love you too," Draco replied with a light laugh, and laid a kiss on his moist forehead. Just as he was about to drift off, he noticed the light filling the room. Immediately, he pulled the quilts over himself and Harry.

"Hermione," he said rigidly. "And just how long have you been standing there?"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Reviews keep us going, everyone! Just drop us a short line to let us know if you're loving this or hating it and we'll be indebted to you forever! With that... enjoy!

xx

"Long enough," she said, bright red anger etched all over her face.

Harry sat up. "Hermione, I--" he sighed. "I told you."

"I know, I just-- I didn't think you'd be doing it in _our bed!"_ She sighed. "I thought we were going to talk... I thought you wanted to try working things out, and instead, you bring him over to fuck in _our bed?"_

Draco slid quietly out from between the covers, Transfiguring his shirt into a bathrobe. "I'll just... wait outside." He covered his body with the terrycloth robe and slipped out the door.

Hermione shut the door behind Draco and turned to face her husband.

There was a moment in which neither of them said anything, just stared at each other. Finally, Harry broke the silence. "Hermione, I--" He sighed. "I don't know what to say." He lowered his eyes. "Yell at me, I guess. I deserve it."

But instead of shouting her lungs out, she sank onto the bed, facing away from him. Her eyes filled with tears. "Was it something I did?" She paused. "Was I not exciting enough for you, not adventurous enough, did I not love you enough..." She trailed off.

"Oh, Hermione." Harry sat up and instinctively put his arms around her, then withdrew, feeling that he'd lost that right. "It wasn't like that at all."

She whirled around. "Then what was it?" Wiping furiously at her eyes, she grabbed for the box of tissues on the nightstand. "What happened to us?"

"Nothing happened to us," Harry said quietly. "Draco happened to me." He looked her in the eye. "I still love you, Hermione. And that's why... that's why this is going to be so hard."

"What's going to be hard?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Harry's entire body seemed to sigh. "Hermione, we can't be together any longer."

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do."

"You don't _mean_ that... Harry, think about what you're saying... we're married, we _love_ each other, we--" She sobbed wildly, with no arms to comfort her. "Why are you doing this?"

"I've fallen in love with Draco," he told her calmly. "And I can't just push it away."

"But you can just push _me_ away?" she cried incredulously. "And think about who you're talking about, Harry-- Malfoy! You hated him, you hated him so much it made your blood boil, and now-- now--"

_He's making my blood boil in other ways,_ he said to himself, smiling inwardly.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you."

"Yes."

Now she was enraged. "I don't believe you can be so cold, so goddamn dead to me, all because of a few nights with some blonde git who--"

"Hey!" Harry sat bolt upright, his eyes blazing. "Get mad at me, fine. I told you I deserved it. But don't say one word against Draco."

She stared at him. "I see," she said quietly. "I see clearly now." Gathering her purse from the floor, she turned to leave. Once she reached the door, she turned.

"You know how I know that you love him more?" When Harry didn't respond, she smiled bittersweetly. "Never once have you defended me like that against someone. When Ron teases me, you let him continue even though you know how much it gets to me. But I can't even call the golden child one name." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked straight out of the house.

Harry wrapped himself in the sheet and ran after her. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know," she said, "but I'm a capable woman, if you haven't figured that out over the years, and I'll figure it out. I'll be back sometime later to collect my things."

And out she went, heels clicking over the threshold, wind whistling over the porch, the exit music of her life with Harry.

xx

Draco stepped cautiously out of the kitchen. "How did it go?"

"Not too well," he said quietly, "but better than I thought."

Nodding, Draco looked at the door that Hermione had just walked out of. "Where did she go?" he asked.

Harry shook his head and sighed. "I don't know. But she said she'll be back to collect her things."

Draco leaned on the doorframe of the kitchen and detected a look of shame and misery on Harry's face. He wanted to go over and take his lover in his arms, comfort him, and reassure him that nothing would stand in their way of being together, but he wasn't sure whether Harry wanted to hear that or be left alone.

Still wrapped in the white sheets, Harry stepped into the living room and sank onto the sofa. A huge chapter of his life had just closed and he felt both relief and regret. Relief of being able to live without guilt and lies, and regret of losing a great friend. Hermione was more to him than just a wife. She had been his best friend since they were eleven. She had been there for him in his most difficult and painful moments, to comfort and encourage him. To take him closer to his goal. If only she could see what he really wanted now and appreciate it, instead of scorning it. Harry hoped against hope that they could resolve this conflict and stay friends.

Draco followed him cautiously into the living room, carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. He set the mugs on the coffee table and sat beside Harry, adjusting his bathrobe.

They sat silently for a moment. Harry had his head bowed, staring pensively at the steam raising from the hot chocolate. Draco reached out and placed his hand on Harry's, who looked up and smiled gratefully.

"Shouldn't you be getting home?" he asked, lacing his fingers with Draco's.

Draco shrugged. "Daphne doesn't care what time I return home, as long as I _do_." Draco snorted and took a sip of his cocoa. "Knowing her, she must have found something -- or _someone_, rather-- to keep her entertained in my absence."

Harry looked at Draco. "A-are you going to tell her?" he asked, failing to keep the uncertainty and doubt out of his voice.

Draco turned to Harry, looking slightly hurt and shocked. Harry winced. Draco placed his cup on the coffee table beside Harry's.

"Of course I will," said Draco slowly, leaning forward and taking Harry's hands. "Harry, you didn't think that I would keep this from Daphne, did you? That I would turn this beautiful thing we have into some kind of a clandestine, forbidden affair?"

As soon as Harry looked away, Draco touched his chin with his fingers and made him look back into his eyes. Harry felt angry with himself and drained from the row with Hermione. He didn't want to argue with Draco, too.

"Harry, I know what you just sacrificed, and I know you did it for me," said Draco, softly stroking Harry's jaw. "I would do the same for you. I'm not ashamed of this. You know that, don't you? You trust me?"

Harry nodded quickly, realizing how childish it was of him to be mistrust Draco, who sat at the edge of his seat, ready to erase all doubt from Harry's mind and heart. "I trust you when you say you love me," he said, looking at their locked hands.

"I do," said Draco quickly. "More then I can ever--"

"I know, I know," Harry placed a finger on his lips. "I don't care if the whole world walks out on me, Draco. I just don't… ever… _ever_... want to lose you."

Draco pulled Harry close, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry," said Draco firmly. "I'll stay right here with you. I know you feel unsure and depressed because of Hermione's leaving, but I'm still here. And I plan on staying."

Harry wound his arms around Draco possessively. "You promise?" he asked.

"I promise," Draco smiled gently, kissing the crown of Harry's messy-haired head. "I won't leave you. You're mine."

Harry smiled and lifted his head. He kissed Draco's lips softly, tasting chocolate on them. "Yours," he said, looking straight into the smoky gray eyes. "always yours."

After finishing the hot chocolate in each other's arms, Draco took Harry to the bedroom. Shedding the bathrobe, Draco lifted the covers and settled on the bed, which smelled of their sweat and cum. He pulled Harry to his chest and kissed him passionately. He could feel Harry's smile on his lips. When they broke apart, Harry's hand brushed his hair, still somewhat damp.

"I can't wait to wake up beside you in the morning," he said, his face full of adoration. "That will be a first."

"Yeah," said Draco. "I wouldn't mind waking next to you for the rest of my life."

He hadn't planned on saying that, but now that the words had spilled from his lips, he didn't regret it. He knew he meant it.

At first Harry looked silently down at Draco, and then their tongues were swirling together, their hearts beating faster, their bodies rolling over each other, their hands knocking over lamps and picture frames, their laughter escaping their mouth-- and Harry had never felt more happy and alive.


	12. Chapter 12

"Another round?" the rosy-cheeked barmaid called over her shoulder as she passed with a tray of drinks.

"Absolutely," Blaise called back.

"So anyway," Daphne continued, "I have no idea what his problem is." Again, she was back to talking about Draco.

Blaise gave her his best sympathetic smile. "I don't either. I know he's a busy and complicated guy, but if he can't un-busy and un-complicate himself for five minutes to pay some attention to you, he's really got something wrong with him. I mean, look at you. He's goddamn lucky. Any wizard would kill to have you."

"Blaise," she admonished, blushing.

"What? It's true. You're hot, smart, vivacious, from what Draco tells me, a nymphomaniac..."

Her face was the color of a sun-ripened tomato. "Blaise!"

"Well, it's true, isn't it?"

A pause. "Maybe the nympho part."

Laughing, Blaise accepted the drinks from the barmaid and paid her, throwing in a Galleon tip. "Cheers."

They clinked their bottles together and drank as a familiar-looking owl dropped a letter on the table.

"Mail's in," Blaise said cheerfully.

Daphne grinned and unfolded the letter. "Huh," she said, the smile fading from her face.

"What is it?"

"Apparently you're out getting piss-drunk with my husband." She tossed the scrap of parchment onto the table, and Blaise read it.

_Daphne--_

_Sorry, I won't be home tonight. I ran into Blaise and Theo Nott in Hogsmeade and we got a little carried away with the firewhisky. I'm going to sleep it off at Blaise's. I'll see you tomorrow._

_Draco_

"Looks like your hopes for a fun night have just been dashed," he said sympathetically.

Her eyes burned. "Maybe."

Blaise's heart skipped a beat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She slammed the rest of her Butterbeer and got to her feet. "I'll be right back."

As she sashayed away from the table, Blaise held his breath. _What exactly does she have in mind?_ He took a pull from his Butterbeer and sighed. _If she wants it... could I really do that to Draco?_ A squeal went up from the bar, and Blaise glanced over to see a guy grabbing his girlfriend's ass. _Well... he did use me as an excuse. Obviously he's out doing something to hurt Daphne._

Daphne came out of the ladies' room, corset cinched tight around her body, her curls let down from their ponytail.

_Yes, _Blaise decided, _I can definitely do this._

Her kohl-rimmed eyes seemed to beckon him. "Come on."

Almost unaware of his body, he rose to his feet and followed her out the door.

They arrived to a dark, cold Malfoy Manor. Daphne threw on the lights and marched straight back to the master bedroom.

"Are you sure about this, Daphne?"

She wore her best sexpot smile, a glossed-over, bloodred pout. Deliberately, she strutted over to stand next to him, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin. "What's the matter? Don't you want it?"

His eyes went closed. "Oh, I want it... God, Daphne, I've wanted it for _years..._"

"Then don't fight it." And she tore his shirt open, scattering black buttons all over the floor.

His heart raced as she pushed him over onto the bed, straddling him in her skintight jeans and knee-high leather boots. "What are you going to do?"

A slightly evil grin crossed her face. "Everything you never dreamed possible."

xx

Hermione let out a defeated sigh. She was alone, freezing, and in the middle of a street in Hogsmeade. Most of the shops and restaurants were closed, and the only inn was full.

Rubbing her arms to keep warm, she continued along her path. Who did she know in Hogsmeade? Parvati and Lavender shared an apartment over their fashion shop, but she didn't feel like going there. They'd draw the story out of her and it would be the talk of the town before she had her morning toast and tea. Justin Finch-Fletchley had a cottage on the outskirts of the village, but she didn't know him well enough to feel comfortable staying the night. Then it hit her.

She took a shortcut down a back alley and ended up on a cozy little street with several picturesque little two-story houses. They stood so close together that the neighbors could open their windows and shake hands. Squinting in the dark, she read the numbers-- 902, 904... and opened the gate to number 906. After a moment's hesitation on the front stoop, she pressed her finger to the doorbell. A light came on inside the house, and the door squeaked open.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?"

"Hi, Dean. Can I come in?"

xx

Blaise lay in the emerald-green and black silks of the Malfoys' bed, a silver tassel brushing his shoulder. "Daphne... that was..."

"I know," she said in a velvety voice. "And just think... I wasn't even on top of my game tonight."

A tremor ran through his veins.

She stretched luxuriously, reminding Blaise of a cat, and curled up at his side, pulling the thick satin quilt over them.

Blaise moved closer to touch that silky, alabaster skin lying so close to him. Daphne mewled softly as Blaise bit her moist shoulder.

_Draco is a fool,_ thought Blaise to himself, watching Daphne's closed eyes. _To throw away something as great as this..._

Blaise ran his hand through Daphne's dark red locks; her eyes fluttered, but otherwise she stayed still. He continued to massage her scalp, neck, and shoulders, as Daphne groaned and sighed contently.

He settled comfortably beside her and made himself believe that the bed he was lying on was his own. The furniture that decorated the room was a collection of his own family heirlooms, and the beautiful woman lying next to him was _his_ wife.

_What would that be like?_ Blaise wondered, stroking her ear now. But he knew that the sooner he snapped out of this daydream, the better. This fantasy couldn't last. He would leave tonight and this bed would be occupied by someone else tomorrow. And that person happened to be Draco Malfoy, one of his best friends.

Daphne opened her eyes and looked straight into Blaise's morose face. "What's up with you?" she asked, lifting herself on her elbows. "Why the long face?"

Blaise took a deep breath and plunged in. "Do you think we have a chance?"

"Of what?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Blaise watched her pouty lips and flushed cheeks, and leaned forward, capturing her lips between his. Daphne was caught off guard but she returned the kiss. Blaise leaned back and steadied himself to say the next few words.

"Merlin help me," he breathed. "But I think I love you."

Daphne stared, open-mouth and wide-eyed. "Oh my…"

"Do you feel anything... _anything_… at all for me?" he asked, on verge of panicking now. "Do you think we can be more than good friends?"

She was silent, and he thought his heart would explode under the pressure. He needed her to be quicker at responding.

Daphne was still reeling from Blaise's revelation. She looked around the room, seeing Draco's ties on the chair, his cologne on the dressing table, his gown on the hook of the bathroom door, his notes on the incomplete novel, and then back into Blaise's warm, dark brown eyes that were filled with devotion, anxiety, and-- God forbid-- love.

_Is this what I want? _

She found the answer even before she finished forming the question in her mind. And without any further contemplation, Daphne rolled over on top of Blaise and kissed him with a renewed passion.


	13. Chapter 13

Daphne awakened to the soft rays of morning sunlight poking through the slit in the heavy curtains. With a grand yawn, she rolled over in bed, a smile spreading across her face. She felt energized, new, reborn. She slid out of the bed, letting the cool satin slide over her body, drawing herself up in her full statuesque naked glory to throw open the curtains and let in the sunshine.

After letting her skin drink in the warmth for a few moments, she went to the closet, pulling on a pair of jeans and a red tank top, then glided downstairs to the kitchen to make a shake for breakfast.

She set bananas, strawberries, apples, and ice out on the granite countertop and plugged the blender in. Last night's affair was still fresh in her memory, and emotions mixed inside her heart like water and oil. She loved Draco, there was no doubt about it-- but he'd betrayed her last night, wherever he was.

A breeze filled the house, and she knew Draco was home. She heard the click of the door, and steeled herself for what she was about to tell him.

He entered the kitchen, still wearing last night's clothes, his hair still falling perfectly over his forehead. "Good morning," he said carefully.

Daphne pressed the puree button with a manicured fingernail and turned to face her husband. "Hello."

"I don't know how you can stand drinking your breakfast." Draco rummaged around in the refrigerator until he found a Tupperware full of leftover lasagna. He popped the top off and threw it in the microwave, then poured himself a glass of water.

She hid a smile. "At least mine is healthy."

With a snort, he grabbed for a fork and napkin. "And mine's delicious."

"Why thank you," Daphne said.

He offered her a grin as the microwave beeped, and shoveled a forkful of lasagna into his mouth._ I wonder if she'll still make me lasagna after we live in separate houses._ The thought hit him like a sandbag in the face, and he realized he needed to tell her as soon as possible. "Hey, Daphne--"

"Wait," she said, sitting down across from him at the table. "I have something to tell you. You've been so open with me about this whole Harry thing, that--"

"Well that's what I actually wanted to tell you about. You see--"

"I slept with Blaise last night," she blurted out.

"I-- what?"

"I slept with Blaise last night."

Draco was speechless. "And how did that happen?"

Nonchalantly, she shrugged. "You tell me. You were supposed to be getting drunk with him." She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Daphne, I--"

"Go on. I can't wait to hear this excuse." She folded her arms.

"It's not an excuse. I was with Harry."

She laughed. "And you had to make up a story about getting smashed with your friends to cover for it? You know I don't give a shit that you're fucking him."

"But you'll probably give a shit when I tell you that I love him."

For a moment, silence reigned, and she stared at him as if he'd gone crazy. Then she burst into laughter. "Draco, please. At least give me a believable story!" But his expression remained solemn and she quickly quieted. "Good God. You're serious."

"Incredible though it may seem-- yes, I am."

She sighed, holding the cold glass in her hands. "God."

"Now what about you and Blaise?"

"I don't think it matters anymore, does it?" She gazed back at him emotionlessly.

"Yes, it does."

She took a sip of her shake. "Yeah. There's something."

"What?"

"I'm not sure yet." She thought of the night before, how Blaise had held her as if she were Venetian glass, the things he'd said to her before he left. _I'll be yours. Just yours. _They were the five most beautiful words she'd heard in her life.

"Daphne."

"Hmm?"

He sighed. "We can't--"

"We can't stay married," she said in a calm voice. "I know."

"So what do we do?"

She gave him a tranquil smile. "This is your house," she said. "And I'm quite sure Blaise will have no problem taking me in."

"You're going straight to him?"

"Isn't Harry going to move straight in here?"

He remained silent.

"It's okay, Draco. It was great while it lasted, right?"

He nodded. "You're still my favorite female."

"If you and Harry ever need some variety..."

"You'll be first on our list." He smiled.

She nodded. "I suppose I should start packing my things, then." Draining her glass, she rose.

"You really are too much woman for one man, aren't you?" Draco asked.

She kissed him on the lips and disappeared up the stairs.

xx

The next morning, Hermione woke up to find the bed empty beside her. She sat up quickly and looked around the unfamiliar room before the previous night's events came back to her. She sighed as she recalled the fight with Harry, the drink with Dean and his comforting words, and finally, coming back to crash here at her parents' house. She rose from the bed and went to the attached bathroom to take the morning shower.

Under the warm spray of the water, she remembered that she'd taken Dean up on his offer to paint a portrait of her. He had asked for her help to add to his art collection that was slated for an exhibition at a gallery next month. She'd declined immediately, but Dean kept persisting. After much internal deliberation, she had reluctantly complied. She'd never forget the happiness and excitement that had stolen over his face at her agreement. Conscious of her face now, she used her mother's special skin-firming face wash. _Couldn't hurt,_ she thought.

The talk with Dean had been very soothing and encouraging. Dean was one of her friends that was still available to her, whenever she needed an ear to listen, or a shoulder for support. He was the only person from her past that she liked spending time with. Him and Harry, of course. She had been glad to find Dean Thomas. She needed this distraction-- anything to do, anything to take her mind off of what she had to leave behind. She had decided to get on with her life, without wasting another second on Harry.

_How could I have been so stupid?_ she asked herself, massaging her head with shampoo. _How did I not see this coming?_

After cleansing her hair, she turned the shower off and stepped out of the tub. She threw the bathrobe on herself and dried her hair on the towel. As she stood in front of the mirror over the sink, she watched her pale complexion for a few minutes.

_You will not let this take over your life_, she told herself, gazing into the reflection of her brown eyes. _No, you will take control of your life and start fresh all over. A new beginning._

She decided that the sooner she took care of this mess with Harry, the sooner she'd be able to relax. She forced a smile on her face and prayed that everything would go well when she went to see Harry for the last time.

xx

Harry was reading _Which Broomstick_ when he heard a _pop_ in the living room. He looked up to find Draco smiling down at him, and immediately threw the magazine on the sofa to greet his lover with a kiss.

"I missed you," he said, smiling back at him. Draco laughed, shaking his head, and sat down on the sofa, pulling Harry beside him.

"Did you, now?" he asked, eyebrow raised. "What has it been, two hours since you last saw me?"

Harry looked at his wristwatch, and said, "Well, actually, it's been four hours and twenty-five minutes, exactly."

Draco smiled and pulled Harry in for another kiss. Harry closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of Draco's lips. When he pulled back, Harry noticed that something was troubling him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sensing Draco stiffen. "Did you talk to Daphne?"

Draco nodded.

"I told her… I told her everything. She knew, of course," Draco gave a bittersweet smirk, staring at the carpet. "She knew I was with you last night, and not with Blaise, as I said in my owl."

"How did she know?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Well, dear old Blaise was with _her_ last night, when he should have been with me." Draco laughed, finally seeing the humor and irony of the situation. "She caught me."

Harry stayed quiet and turned to watched the birds strutting on the tree branch outside his window. Draco sighed and played with the tassel of the sofa cushions. A few moments passed before Harry broke the silence.

"But she knows now," he said, taking Draco's hand and looking at his downcast face. "Isn't that a good thing? I mean, we don't have to hide it anymore."

Draco looked up at Harry's hopeful smile and a grin crept onto his face automatically.

"Yes, it's great," he said, squeezing Harry's hand. "She didn't even make a big fuss about the house. She said she'll move out right away so you can come and live with me."

With those last few words, Draco's smile broadened and he put an arm around Harry to pull him closer. But Harry blinked as his smile faltered.

"Come… come live with you?" he asked, his heart beating fast. "At your place?"

"Well, yeah," said Draco, noticing Harry's hesitance. "You didn't think I'd give my manor to Daphne, did you?"

"But what about this house?" Harry asked, making a gesture with his hand. "What will I do with this?"

"That's up to you," Draco said, looking curiously at Harry. "You _do_ want to come and live with me, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," Harry said, quickly. "I just…" Again, he looked around his living room and the memories of all the time spent here with Hermione came rushing back. _Maybe it's for the best,_ Harry thought._ To start a new life, at new house._

Noting Harry's pensive face, Draco broke Harry's train of thought.

"But we don't have to worry about that now," he said, pulling Harry close so that they were practically nose to nose.

"We don't?" asked Harry.

"Nope," said Draco. "What we need to do now is plan a trip to Italy."

Before Harry could ponder whether Draco was kidding or not, he heard another _pop. _Hermione was standing in front of the fireplace, watching Harry untangle himself from Draco's arms.

"Oh, hello, Hermione," said Draco, cheerfully. "Thought you'd sneak up on us again, did you?"

Harry groaned silently, as Hermione threw her most hateful look at Draco, who cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Harry," he said, straightening his shirt. "And we'll talk more about that later too."

It was plain that Draco didn't want Hermione to know about what they'd been discussing. Hermione hadn't moved an inch from the spot where she had apparated, and she was obviously waiting for Draco to leave. Harry stood up to say goodbye to Draco but his words were drowned by Draco's mouth closing over his and he silently yelped when he felt Draco's tongue pushing into his mouth. He was painfully aware of Hermione's eyes upon them and he was glad when Draco finally extricated his lips from his with a wet sound.

"See you," Draco whispered and was gone in a second.

"Well," Hermione said shortly. "I see it took you a long time to get over me." Her tone was sarcastic and her lips were pursed in that way that meant disaster.

Harry resisted the urge to inform her that he'd been over her for some time now, ever since Draco had...

"Look. I obviously don't like the fact that some bleached-blonde Death Eater just waltzes into my house and assumes he can take my husband. I wonder if you're under the Imperius Curse... but I know you can fight it. I just don't know why you can't fight this." She stood quietly for a minute, expecting him to defend himself; when he didn't, she barreled ahead. "I just hope you know what you're doing, Harry James Potter, because if you find out he's a huge git with an overdeveloped sex drive who's probably only doing this for the novelty of it, you better not come crawling back to me. I _will not be there for you. _Do you understand?"

He wanted to tell her that she was underestimating Draco, that there was no way she could possibly know what he and Draco had. He cleared his throat, hoping that would help clear his head, then finally spoke. "I want you to have the house."

"What?" She was completely taken aback.

"I want you to have the house. It's my fault that we're splitting, and-- it wouldn't be fair if you had to find another place."

She softened. "I don't know what to say--"

"You don't need to say anything. Just take it. I'll pack my things and be out of here today."

"Harry." She gave him a hug, and he felt her hair brush against his skin; but the familiar tingle he used to get was gone. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I'll just-- I'll just be going, then."

He nodded, his throat dry, and raised a hand in a farewell gesture as she disappeared.

xx

Dean Thomas sat in front of a blank canvas, paintbrush in hand, lost in thought. Last night had been a complete and utter, albeit delightful, surprise. To him, it seemed odd that Hermione should come to him instead of Ron or Parvati-- then again, he knew that Ron was first and foremost Harry's best friend and that Parvati was an insufferable gossip.

He couldn't believe that she had agreed to sit for him. Hermione's face had sharp yet delicate features that would be a dream to paint, and he imagined that if he could portray her in just the right light, her portrait could be the centerpiece of his exhibit. After she'd left, filled with his best hot chocolate and emptied of her burdens, he immediately pulled out a canvas to paint her a thank-you gift, as he did for all his models. But somehow, he couldn't think of any subject that would be good enough to give to Hermione.

Finally, he dabbed at his palette and began to brush a brown rectangle onto the rough surface. As the painting took shape, he began to smile to himself.

_She'll love this._

xx

A pile of notebooks and looseleaf pages sat on Draco's desk, pushed back against the wall. He'd put his book on hold the day Harry confessed his love, and since then, had been busy collecting travel brochures. These now covered his desk-- Muggle information on Rome, Venice, Vienna, the Colosseum. There were also a few pamphlets, sporting moving photos, which talked about the other side of Rome-- Draco already had reservations at the _Albergo Incantesimo, _a cozy little hotel which boasted complimentary _Morderes Amores_, Italy's version of Chocolate Cauldrons.

He drifted off for a moment, imagining sharing gelato with Harry at a sidewalk cafe, taking in a grand view of the ocean. Maybe he'd pluck a flower from the ground and tuck it lovingly into Harry's lapel-- though why Harry would be wearing a suit jacket, he had no idea. Laughing at the silliness of it all, he went back to his brochures.

A tiny _pop _sounded from the livingroom, and before Draco could get out of his chair, Harry was in the room.

"Hi, love." Harry laid a kiss on his head.

_"Ciao, amante."_

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you spoke Italian."

"My mother insisted I learn at least three languages." Draco pulled up a chair and Harry took a seat.

"So, Italy?"

"Yeah. I've got reservations in Rome."

A smile spread across Harry's face. "I've always wanted to see Rome."

"I've always wanted to spend a day in an Italian bed and breakfast, making love to you through sunset and sunrise," Draco told him, squeezing his hand. "Then we'll see Rome."

Harry let his jaw drop in mock amazement. "You mean there are other things to do there?"

Laughing, Draco pelted him with a crumpled-up piece of paper.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Sorry it's took so long for this!!! Finals and other craziness in our lives has prevented the output of more slash-filled goodness. But here's a super long chapter for you!

xx

"Merlin," Harry breathed, "it's beautiful."

Draco, his hair windswept from the ocean breeze, smiled into the sunset. "Isn't it? I used to go to Milan with my parents, but I've never been to Rome."

"So what should we do?"

"I told you what we were going to do."

"A whole day?"

"A whole day."

Involuntarily, Harry squirmed. "I don't know if I can handle it."

A smile lit Draco's face and he moved closer to Harry, encircling him in his arms. "I'll be gentle, love." He leaned in for a kiss, and Harry swore his lungs stopped working. The grey stone ledge seemed to disappear from beneath him, and the scent of flowers died on the wind, replaced by the tangy lime-and-spice scent of Draco's cologne. The last light of the sun, the palette of magenta and violet and azure and brazen gold, crowned Draco with such a radiant elegance that Harry thought he might be in the presence of a god. He let out a soft groan as Draco caught his earlobe between his teeth, and smiled. _I _am_ in the presence of a god. The Slytherin sex god..._

As if to confirm that fact, Draco surreptitiously glanced around to make sure no one was present and whispered hoarsely into Harry's ear. "You know... we're alone," he whispered, "with no memories to trail us, no wives to catch us."

"Ex-wives," Harry corrected.

"Ex-wives. So--" Draco slid his hand down Harry's side and let it drift nonchalantly into his back pocket. "Let's celebrate. Twenty-four hours."

"You're unstoppable."

Unblushingly, Draco shouldered his camera bag and put an arm around his lover. "C'mon. Let's get back to the hotel."

Arms draped around each other, they meandered back to their bed-and-breakfast, which was a lovely villa on a cliff overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. Their room faced the vast expanse of pebbled water, clear fading into a vague aquamarine, touched with puffs of seafoam. Harry lingered at the window, perched on the seat; Draco opened the room service menu, checked off a few selections with a quill, and sent it out of the room.

"What did we order?"

Draco rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Every Flavor Beans and Acid Pops."

Harry swatted at him. "Oh, please."

"No, I'm serious. What better way to celebrate our love than with a bogey-flavored--"

"Draco!"

They were both laughing when a knock sounded at the door.

A short, plump woman in a floral-print dress pushed past Draco and set a tray on the table. _"Champagne e fragole, signore."_

_"Grazie."_ Draco made a small bow and smiled at the woman, who curtsied in response and shut the door behind her with a smile on her apricot-puckered mouth.

"Mmm," Harry said, rising to dip a strawberry in the melted chocolate.

Draco caught his wrist. "No, no." Delicately, he took the strawberry from Harry's fingertips and slipped it between his waiting lips. "Let me." His lips grazed the very tips of Draco's fingers, and he trembled at the warmth.

"You know," Harry said, "there is way too much chocolate here for the amount of strawberries we have."

"That," Draco said, touching his nose to Harry's, "was done completely on purpose."

xx

The next day, Draco made reservations for them at a classy yet fun little restaurant that the owner had recommended. "It's got a dancefloor and everything," Draco told Harry, as he checked his hair in the mirror one more time.

Harry stood behind Draco and looped his arms around his waist. "You better know what you're doing. I'm a horrible dancer."

Draco laughed. "C'mon, let's go."

It was a beautiful day-- the sun was high in the sky, but the air was mild and just cool enough to be comfortable.

They apparated into the back alley of the restaurant. Harry looked around at the shops and stands lined up on either sides of the alley, filled with everything from fresh flowers to hand-made jewelry. The air was thick with the scent of herbs, spices and slow-paced music. Suddenly, Draco pulled Harry closer and kissed him on the lips.

"Do you know how delicious you look today?" said Draco huskily, kissing his jaw.

"Nope, but I do now," said Harry, grinning. They both were wearing black suits, Harry with a white shirt and Draco with a light gray.

Draco took his hand and walked him to the front. There were wrought-iron tables set out in front of the restaurant, which faced a huge fountain in the middle of the paved street. They took a seat at one of the linen-covered square tables, which was set for two. Thick ivy covered the glass windows of the restaurant; past the brown of the glass, similar square tables could be seen inside the restaurant. Soft music played, which was drowned by loud yelling and laughter from people all around them. Some sat in big groups, others in twos and threes.

"What's this place called?" asked Harry.

"Giardino di Mario," said Draco, taking the menu from a waitress. "This lovely old couple we met on holiday in Vienna owns it-- the Mjellelis."

Harry nodded and looked down at the menu. He didn't understand anything written on it. He looked up and found Draco scanning the menu with an expert's eye. After a few moments, he seemed satisfied and put the menu down.

"Have you decided yet?" Draco asked, when Harry put the menu down.

"I would, if they provided a dictionary with the menu," Harry said, frowning at the foreign words.

Draco laughed and took Harry's hand across the table. "Don't worry, you can get whatever I order."

Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't voice his reluctance at having someone else order for him. He had to trust Draco with this or else he would probably end up ordering a sheep's tongue in a garlic sauce or something.

The door to the restaurant swung open and a short, round-bellied man came out with two round trays in both hands. He was wearing black pants, a black vest, and a white apron. He looked to be in his late fifties and there was a merriment about his face. He had a warm, welcoming smile as he greeted his patrons. He went to a table, laid down the orders and wished two guests a good meal loudly in Italian.

"That's our man," said Draco, standing up to greet the man Harry assumed to be Mario Mjelleli.

A wide smile spread on Mario's bearded face as soon as he spotted Draco. "Draco! Il mio caro ragazzo!" he yelled as he engulfed Draco in his arms and patted his back. "Come siete?"

"Benissimo," said Draco, pulling away. "Come e Maia?"

"Grande, grande," he said, waving a hand. "So… long time no see, eh? Where you been, bambino?"

"Ah, busy. Got a divorce," Draco said, without any remorse.

"No!" Mario looked anguished as Draco nodded. He sighed and patted Draco again on the shoulder. He looked around as a loud cheer was heard inside the restaurant.

"Well, Mario, meet my new friend," said Draco, suddenly turning towards Harry. "Harry."

"Ah, Ciao," said Mario, smiling as he vigorously shook Harry's hand. "Benvonuto, signore Harry."

"Yeah, same to you," said Harry, nervously. Draco turned his face away to hide his smirk.

"So, you come here first time?" asked Mario, signaling a waitress over. "You like Rome?"

"Oh yes, it's a marvelous place," said Harry, gazing at his surroundings for emphasis. "Beautiful city."

"Full of possibilities," added Draco, giving him one of _those _looks. Harry's eyes widened as Draco touched his thigh.

_Not here_, thought Harry, glaring at Draco.

"Possibilities?" asked Mario, looking back and forth from Draco to Harry.

"Yes," Draco turned to look at Mario. "Oh, sorry, Mario. See, when I said Harry is a friend, I meant a very special friend…" He placed an arm around Harry. "Mio amante."

An instant understanding dawned on Mario's face. "Ahh, special friend, of course," he smiled jovially. As the waiter approached them, he barked orders at him and then turned to Harry.

"Free drinks on me, amico." He slapped Harry's back and winked at Draco. "Enjoy."

After eating their food, calamari followed by tiramisu, Harry sat back and enjoyed the glass of red wine while watching the red sun sink behind the ancient domed buildings. The music was still playing in the background and the crowd had concentrated in the last hour. Harry noticed some very formally dressed people enter the restaurant, whose interior was decorated for a very special event.

"There's a wedding." Draco spoke suddenly. He was looking straight at Harry to gouge his reaction.

"Oh," Harry said, craning his head to get a better look. "Do you know the couple?"

"No, but Mario does," Draco said, putting down his empty wine glass. "The bride's his niece." He stood up, and took Harry's hand. "Let's go inside."

Harry let Draco pull him to his feet and followed Draco inside. The interior of the restaurant was larger than it looked from the outside. Harry gazed at the maroon hangings covering the ceiling, and the tables decorated with folded napkins and vases of daisies, tulips, and daffodils. There was a dais in the back with white and red balloons tied to the posts. All around them, guests were finding their tables and settling in.

Draco led Harry to the front, near the bar, where Mario was talking animatedly to an old couple. When he saw Draco approaching, he excused himself.

"Over here," he pointed to table. "You sit here. We're about to begin."

Harry sat down on one of the four cushioned chairs at the smaller tables, which were draped in cream-colored silk. "This should be fun," he said excitedly, as the groom, a handsome brunette in a tux, stepped up on the dais.

One by one, the attendants filed in, stunning in black dinner jackets and wine-red sundresses. _So it's a semi-casual affair,_ thought Harry.

The music changed, and the string quartet began playing the Wedding March. Everyone craned their neck to get a glimpse of the bride as she stepped out in a simple white gown, blushing with happiness, grinning from ear to ear.

As she walked up the aisle, all Draco could think of was how he'd love to be in the groom's place, about to marry the love of his life. He glanced at Harry, and from the expression on his face, he was thinking the same thing.

_"Caro beneamato, siamo arricciatura qui..."_

Draco closed his eyes and listened to the Italian roll off the minister's tongue. As he got to the vows, Draco grabbed Harry's hand.

"I do," Draco whispered softly.

Harry turned. "You're sweet."

"Let's do it, Harry."

Harry had turned back to the altar, his eyes trained on the exchanging of the rings. "We're in the middle of a wedding ceremony here, Draco, don't be silly. I mean sure, I'd like to Vanish my trousers and let you--"

"Harry, let's get married."

Eyes round, Harry turned to face Draco again. "You're serious."

"Marry me. You know you want to stamp "Property of Harry Potter" all over my body. Do it with a ring." He grinned.

Almost beyond words, Harry felt a tear push its way to the corner of his eye. He let out a little chuckle. "I do."

The rest of the reception passed without Harry taking much notice, so immersed was he in Draco's eyes, so lost was he in the beautiful sensation that swelled in his heart. This person sitting in front of him holding his hand and smiling that heart-melting smile, with whom Harry couldn't imagine to be parted with, had just asked him to marry him.

Life had never been sweeter.

Draco lifted Harry's had to his lips and kissed the knuckles softly, his eyes on Harry. Harry's heart jumped and he quickly looked around at the people sitting around them. He wasn't sure how these people would react to such open display between two men. But no one was paying them any attention. All across the hall, people were standing up, clapping, and cheering. The groom had just kissed the bride and now everyone was inching closer to the couple to see them and wish them luck. There were many cries of "Congratulazioni!" from everyone.

After many tears and hugs, the newly married couple descended from the dais to the middle of the floor, gazing lovingly into each other eyes and sharing secret smiles, and started swaying together with the slow music. There were a few dancers on the floor with them and the rest sat at the tables, toasting to the couple. Mario came over to Harry and Draco's table and offered them more champagne.

"Why don't you ask your _amico_ for a dance?" he asked Draco, frowning, gesturing at Harry.

"Oh no," said Harry quickly. "We're fine. We'll just watch."

Mario's frown deepened as he regarded Harry disappointedly.

There was a moment's silence as the music closed. Harry looked around as more people got on their feet to dance to the new track. As soon as the sound of violin emerged from the speakers, which Harry recognized from Draco's collection of music as "Por Una Cabeza", Draco was on his feet.

"Ah. This is my favorite song," he said to Mario, who beamed, and extended his hand to Harry.

There was a sudden hush around their table as the guests nudged and whispered to each other, pointing at Draco. He didn't say a word, only smiled down at Harry, his request lying on his open palm. Mario watched silently as Harry stared back into those silver eyes, so intense that a warmth seemed to fill his whole self, and suddenly Harry found himself rising from the seat and accepting Draco's hand. Draco's smile broadened as Mario cheered loudly. There were hooting and cat-calls from the crowd as Draco gripped his hand tighter.

"Aha! Good for you, _mio agazzo_, good for you!" he said, pushing them to the dance floor. "Now, go, _ballo!"_

Draco led Harry to the floor amidst applauds and disgust from the guests. The scant people on the floor moved away to provide them ample room to dance. Draco faced Harry, his eyes alight with gladness as Harry placed his arm around his neck. Draco placed his right hand on his hip and took Harry's hand in his other. He took a deep breath to calm his wildly beating heart.

People all around them craned their necks to get a better look; some even stood up.

Harry frowned, realizing that he was being led by Draco. "Why do you get to lead?" he whispered, trying to sound offended, but failed miserably as Draco grinned mischievously back at him and pulled him close. Harry felt a tremor run down his back as Draco slid his hands down his back and then up his arms. He placed his palms on Harry's chest. Harry looked down at Draco's hands.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked, realizing that they had abandoned the customary steps of a tango. In answer, Draco moved his hands under Harry's jacket, which was unbuttoned, and slid the jacket off his shoulders. Then he stepped behind Harry and pulled the jacket off, throwing it back at Mario, who caught it and kissed the tips of his fingers in approval. Harry, now in his shirt and tie, turned to look at Draco who was now shedding his own jacket.

"Draco…"

He watched as Draco threw his jacket tauntingly at the onlookers seated at the tables, the group of people who were less than thrilled by their tactics. As the jacket fell on the head of a particularly displeased looking man with a thick mustache, the crowd roared with laughter and cries of outrage. Mario slapped his knees, as he doubled over with laughter.

_"Vada ad inferno!"_ the mustached man yelled, waving a fist at them. Draco snickered, shaking his head, and turned back to Harry, who was trying to stifle his laughter.

Draco suddenly whipped his lover around so he was, once again, standing behind Harry, while his hands sensually wandered across his chest and abdomen. Harry gulped. He was painfully aware of the gazes upon them, some winking, some scowling.

Harry moved slowly with the music, anchored by Draco's right hand on waist, the other resting on his thigh. Draco leaned forward slightly so his chin was resting on Harry's shoulder.

"I want to take you right here," said Draco huskily, his breath warm on Harry's skin. "On this very floor."

He could tell from Draco's tone that he really meant what he just said. Harry closed his eyes, as images of himself nude on the dance floor, his legs resting on an equally naked Draco's shoulder, being pounded relentlessly by him, sifted through his mind. He shivered as his back pressed against the strong chest behind him, and his right hand found Draco's. He quickly intertwined their fingers.

And then Draco dragged his lips over the skin of Harry's neck and kissed him just below his earlobe.

There were a renewed round of cheers and hooting mixed with more cries of disgust. Chairs scraped against the parquet floor as people stood up to either leave or get a closer look as the two young men sashayed on the floor.

As the music escalated, so did Harry's breath. Every part of his body screamed to be touched by those sinuous fingers. The room was a blur of scowls and smiles, of light and color. All he knew was the harsh breath on his lips, the brush of legs against his, the firm grip on his hip, the feel of muscles under his hand, and the intense gaze of his lover, like molten silver.

They spun around and around the room, not once breaking eye contact, as Draco pushed him away and pulled him back again, touching and steering. Every time their bodies touched, an explosion went off in Harry's chest. It felt less like a dance and more of a demonstration, and the message was clear. Draco was laying claim over Harry, telling the world quite clearly to whom he belonged. Harry felt thrilled and intoxicated, weaving in and out of Draco's arms.

As the music drowned, Draco placed his arms on Harry's back and slowly descended him in a dip. Harry threw his head back to expose more skin to Draco, who ghosted his breath on the flushed skin and pulled Harry up again. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, arms still around each other, breathing hard, standing there in the middle of a hall of someone else's wedding. The situation was so absurd that Harry couldn't help grinning like a fool.

_"Bello!"_ Mario's voice was heard above all other as he laughed and clapped. Someone threw an orange peel at Harry and Draco which landed short of it's target, a few feet away.

_"Diavoli disgustosi,"_ an old woman shouted, but Mario shut her up.

_"Vaffunculo!"_

_  
_Harry could take the hurtful words, the hateful looks, the harsh treatment, the garbage thrown at their head, and every other blow. As long he had Draco's arm around him to shield him, he'd be fine. As long as he had Draco…

"I'm not too worried." Harry finished his thoughts aloud. Before Draco could ask anything, Harry had pulled him close into a passionate kiss. Draco's hands fell limply on his sides momentarily, before his hands jumped to hold Harry's face and he returned the kiss with rejuvenated energy. Harry's knees went weak and he swayed a little, but Draco steadied him by snaking an arm around him and holding him close.

"Ah," sighed Mario, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "True love."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: We've had loads of fun with this and we love you all, thanks for your reads and reviews and praise and criticism.

xx

As soon as Draco locked the door to their room behind them, Harry fell apart in giggles. "Did you see their faces?" Throwing off his dinner jacket, he jumped onto the bed and kicked off his shoes. "It was like they'd never seen a gay man before."

Draco joined him. "We're going to face it everywhere, you know."

"Together." The grin on Harry's face was unmistakable. "I don't care what any of them say. You're mine. Property of Harry Potter," he mimicked, earning a playful shove from Draco.

"That doesn't mean I'm going to bottom," Draco warned.

Harry laughed. "So... when do we get to shop for rings?"

"Well, I actually sort of bought yours already," Draco admitted unblushingly, drawing a little ivory box out of his open suitcase.

"Snake. You were planning this all along." A grin still danced on Harry's face.  
"I was not," Draco said indignantly, "but I thought I ought to bring it along just incase the mood struck me to propose during our little excursion."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Show it to me!"

"Oh." Draco smiled and unhinged the box. Inside was a thick band of metal-- the top half gold, the bottom half platinum-- with intertwined strands of ruby and emerald snaking their way around the ring.

Harry smiled. "Inter-house unity?"

Draco kissed him on the cheek. "In a way I'm sure Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor never imagined."

Smiling, Harry pulled him in for another kiss, and another, and soon the open ring box lay forgotten on the nightstand as articles of clothing were tossed to the side.

xx

When Draco had spent himself inside of Harry, and Harry inside of Draco, and they both lay on the bed uncovered and satisfied, Harry felt a surge of love inside him. He imagined the design he would order from the engraver tomorrow; a lightning bolt meeting a dragon on a dark platinum band.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco's finger moved lazily across Harry's forehead, brushing hair from his sweaty skin.

"Nothing," Harry lied, and rolled over to give him a kiss. "So when shall we set the date?"

Draco's eyes were lit by passion. "Let's do it here."

"Here? In Italy?"

"Yes. You know if we do it back home it will just be a great big mess."

Harry thought of Hermione, and reckoned a few of his closest friends would be caught between supporting Harry or sticking up for his ex-wife. _I don't want to put them through that._ "That's true."

"So let's do it here. Just a small ceremony. Just us. That's all we need, anyway."

Harry gathered up his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Just us," he murmured.

Draco bent forward so that their foreheads touched, and Harry shivered as a lock of Draco's hair brushed against his scar. They drifted off to sleep, their nude forms bathed in moonlight, lapped by waves of contentment.

xx

The fragrance of lilacs and jasmine filled the balmy evening air with a subtle sweetness. It matched the mood of the lovers who stood breathless with anticipation in the Giardini del Bussolari, gazing out over the expanse of dazzling blue, dressed in their best suits.

Draco had worn white. "Someone ought to be the bride," he jested, "and I don't feel like wearing black. Black is for funerals and mourning. This is the happiest day of my life."

Laughingly, Harry had told him he ought to get a veil, then kissed him fiercely before they left the villa.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here..."

Draco and Harry stood facing each other, dark shapes against the bright red of the sunset, their eyes locked together. The light cast shadows on Draco's pale face, defining his sharp cheekbones, making his hair radiate like spun gold. Harry thought he'd never seen anything more perfect, more beautiful, more reassuring.

Meanwhile, Draco was finding it impossible to suppress a grin. Before, he hadn't had the ability to smile genuinely. There was no reason to, no freedom to. But with Harry, pure joy had permeated his being, and there was no holding back his happiness.

And now, he would have it forever.

"Repeat after me." The aged priest smiled at Draco. "I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..."

"I, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..." His heart danced in his chest.

"Take you, Harry James Potter..."

Harry's grin was infectious, and Draco almost let out a gleeful laugh. "Take you, Harry James Potter." Instinctively, he grabbed for Harry's hands.

"As my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to honor and obey, for as long as we both shall live."

Draco repeated the vow, his smile spreading from ear to ear, and gave Harry's hands a squeeze. From his pocket, he pulled out the ring, and slid it onto Harry's fourth finger.

"Now you. I, Harry James Potter..."

"I, Harry James Potter..." He bit his lip in anticipation.

"Take you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy..."

Harry felt like he was in the cradle of heaven. "Take you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy... oh, I know the rest. As my lawfully wedded husband—" he squeezed Draco's hands tightly—"to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to honor and obey, for as long as we both shall live!" He produced the ring he'd ordered a few days earlier, which shone in the light, and slipped it onto Draco's finger.

Draco laughed. "Eager?"

"I love you so much," Harry whispered.

The priest smiled. "Well then, I shan't hold you up. I now pronounce you married. You may kiss."

Almost before he'd uttered the last word, Draco had Harry in his arms, pressing their lips together, his hand in Harry's feathered hair. The sun slipped below the horizon as the priest blessed them and made his way out of the gardens, the last soft rays of twilight crowning both men with a glimmering halo as they pressed together for one last kiss, the outlines of their bodies merging, so that any passerby would have thought them to be one being.

As they were.

xx

"Off," whispered Draco immediately, throwing the keys to their villa on the dresser. He grabbed for Harry's jacket, leaving it with his own in a crumpled pile on the floor, pulling him to the bed.

Harry could have reached the blinds, but he felt that it was appropriate to leave them open. To let the stars be their canopy. Tonight, the little pinpricks of light in the sky danced in celebration, sparkling for them alone.

Draco's lips found their way to Harry's in the near-dark as his fingers fumbled urgently with the buttons on Draco's dress shirt.

"I'm shaking. Look at my hands. Why am I so nervous?"  
"You're adorable," Draco said, clasping his trembling hands in his own steady ones.

"Don't say things like that to me, or I'll think I married someone else," Harry chastised with a smile.

"I can be sweet." He brought his lips down to kiss Harry's fingertips.

"Yes, I suppose you can." Steady now, he removed Draco's shirt from his torso. "Now me," he pleaded, "me..."

Draco obliged, swiftly undoing the buttons and casting his shirt to the floor. Without missing a beat, he unfastened the clasp on Harry's pants and sent them to join the shirt, followed soon after by his boxers.

Responding to the hungry look in his husband's eyes—_my husband,_ Harry thought, with a surge of joy—he moved to reciprocate, and sent Draco's clothes to the floor with his own. Almost involuntarily, Harry's hands charted a course across Draco's cool skin. He let them wander under their own volition, searching, feeling, exploring, and Draco dissolved into bliss and back again as goosebumps prickled at his skin.

He closed his eyes, losing himself to Harry's hands, and gave a little start as his firm, possessive lips touched down on his shoulder, capturing folds of skin between them, moving up to the neck, the ear…

A soft moan escaped his lips as Harry nibbled playfully at his earlobe, making the little hairs on his neck stand at attention, obeying the order to send a shock of desire through his already-yearning body. He undulated on the clean white cotton of the bedclothes, every atom of his being longing for Harry, longing for possession.

"Harry…" It was a plea.

The corners of his mouth curved upward. "I thought you weren't going to bottom?"

"So I lied." He returned the smile and reached out to his husband, curling his fingers around his hard length. "How about it?"

"I will. Patience, love."

Draco settled back into the down pillows, satisfied with the answer, and watched a cloud reveal the glowing moon, white with celestial light. Harry came over him again, slowly kissing his way up Draco's pale, toned body, sending quivers of excitement through his veins as he turned his attention from the knees to the inner thighs…

He let a breath out he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and watched Harry trail his way up the side of his pelvis and up his stomach, his chest; he trembled with the most delightful ache as Harry dropped kisses like raindrops on his shoulders. Then, finally, he pressed his mouth to Draco's, the sweetest of all cocktails, tongues tangling in a desperate love.

The blanket half-covered them; Draco held Harry by the arms and delved into the crook of his neck, pulling skin into his mouth, making Harry writhe with equal amounts of love and lust.

_It's a good mix tonight,_ thought Harry, as Draco devoured any self-control he might have had left. _Time to enjoy the ride._

"Turn over," he whispered softly, and Draco did so. Straddling him, he noticed how beautiful he was even from the back; the moonlight reflecting off his hair, the distinct sharpness of his shoulder blades set artfully into his broad back.

_I did marry Adonis,_ he thought fleetingly.

"You're teasing me," complained Draco, muffled by the pillows.

"You just signed up for a lifetime of that," Harry reminded him, positioning himself.

Draco smiled. "And I couldn't be happier about it."

Carefully, slowly, Harry slid inside him, and Draco drew in a sharp breath.

Harry bent over and wrapped his arms around his husband, planting a kiss in the middle of his back. "Ready, love?"

Draco nodded. "Always."

And Harry began moving inside him.

Both men felt the same pleasure they always had, but there was something else. Something higher had been attained. As Harry gripped Draco's shoulders, as Draco reached back to feel Harry's pelvis tilt, urging him inside, something was entirely different. He turned back to drink the fire of his lover's green eyes and marveled at the ring of moonlight set upon his hair like a halo.

_Angel,_ thought Draco briefly, before his eyelids fluttered and he gave in to Harry's thrusts, whispering to him, tensing and releasing.

"Yes, Harry… yes… come for me, come…"

Harry threw his head back and dug his fingers into Draco's hips, convulsing as he came in short streams, meeting Draco's eyes as he craned his neck to watch the climax paint his face.

Draco relaxed into the bed as Harry pulled out, handing him a towel.

"You didn't even have to Accio it," Draco remarked.

"I figured we wouldn't take the time to get ready when we got home," came Harry's reply, as he reached over to light a candle. "So I planned ahead."

"Good thing." Draco let his hand drift to Harry's midsection, gently pulling him back, dropping light kisses on his back.

Harry's eyes drifted shut. "Mmm." He nestled into the pillow, drifting into relaxation at the soft brush of Draco's lips. Then he felt a subtle little poke.

"There you are." He turned his head, offering his lips up for a kiss.

Draco obliged. "Thought I was going to let you have all the fun, did you?"

He turned fully, stretching his arms out for a hug. "I know you better than that." Letting go, he turned back, his eyes trained on the muted flickering of the flame inside its frosted glass holder.

With the utmost care, Draco slid into Harry, looping one arm around his side. His fingers found Harry's chest hair and played absently, relaxing him. Harry pressed into the curve of Draco's body, exhilarated with the love that flowed between them, just on the verge of tangible.

Draco labored with short, invigorated breaths, torn between the urge to explode and the urge to draw out the pleasure, enjoying Harry's body for as long as he could. But Harry continued to tighten, spiked by satisfaction, Draco was at the perfect angle…

"I'm not going to last long," Draco whispered, his breath warm on Harry's ear.

Harry reached back and placed his hand on Draco's thigh. "I want you to get there, love. What makes you happy makes _me _happy. We're one now, remember?"

With a deluge of fresh passion, Draco surged forward and captured Harry in a violent, fervent kiss. Then he pounded into him, fed by Harry's moans, driven by the twist of euphoria on his face, intoxicated by the way he pressed his ass into his pelvis, letting their skin crash together like waves on the sea.

Arching his back, Harry squeezed his eyes shut—_oh, God, Draco, yes—_and within seconds he was shaking like an orchid in hard rain. Draco felt the trembling and drove harder, faster…

"Harry… God, Harry, here it comes, here…" He drew in a sharp breath; his eyes focused on the candle as he shot his load inside of him, as Harry quivered with overwhelmed satisfaction, as another cloud left the moon free to stream its light through the window.

Collapsing on the bed, it was Draco's turn to hand over a towel as they pulled the blankets around them.

Flat on his back, Draco gazed up at the night sky as Harry rested his head on his shoulder, draping an arm and a leg over him. Dancing with merriment, the stars drenched them in light. Draco made to extinguish the candle, but the flame on the votive ceased to flicker and burned straight and bright.

Lazily, Draco let his fingertips flutter over Harry's scar. He shivered and drew closer.

"Life is so strange," Harry murmured into Draco's shoulder. "If someone would have told me this was going to happen when I was still in school, I think I would have either killed them or had them sent to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's."

Draco grinned. "I would have assumed it was one of Trelawney's horrid predictions."

"If she ever saw us… _connecting…_"

"Maybe," Draco ventured, "that's why she was always drunk."

Harry laughed. They laid in peaceful silence for a moment, until Harry spoke.

"It seems almost odd," he mused, "to think that my scar once caused nothing but pain." His green eyes misted over with the pain of remembrance.

Draco caught him in his arms. "Nothing is going to cause you pain ever again. I swear on my life. If you hadn't already killed Voldemort, I'd stare him down and send him to hell for what he's done to you."

"Draco." Harry's voice was soft as he tilted his face up for a kiss.

"Well, I would."

"I know." Harry wrapped his arms around him. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making up for all the times I was a git to you, I promise."

Draco held him close. "There's no need. Just being here with me is enough, Harry." He looked down into Harry's eyes, and the emotion was unmistakable. "I love you."

"Oh, Draco." He kissed him once, twice, three times. "I love you too."

And they fell asleep just like that, limbs tangled, Harry's head on Draco's shoulder, fingers linked to show the stars, the moon, the universe—they were one.

Forever.


End file.
